Well now she’s got me intrigued.
But I’m swearing off women.
We eat our dinner, drink our beer, eat cake, and toss bean bags and play corn hole. When night falls, Tia plays music through speakers in the yard, overhead lighting twinkles, and everyone’s dancing. Everyone but me, but that’s okay, because I’m swearing off women.
I watch Tia and Louie dancing. They’re a little older than when they first met, but still very much in love. Darius and Katie dance, and a few other couples do as well.
Maybe I’m lonely. Maybe I want another chance to do things right after my fuck-up with my ex. Or maybe there’s just magic in the air that night, because I feel half fucking enchanted.
Maybe I just need one night. I don’t have to swear off women forever.
“What’s on your mind, Rawley?”
Gran sits next to me, nursing a large goblet of wine.
“Oh, nothing,” I lie. Her eyes twinkle as she looks at the happy couples all around us.
“You miss Tiffany?” she asks, a stern edge in her tone.
Tiffany? Jesus.
“Yeah, no. Nope. No way.”
“Good.”
I give her a sidelong look. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugs. “Well...it’s just that I think it’s time for you to take a break from women.”
“Absolutely. Agreed.”
She chuckles. “Right.”
“Hey, now. I mean it.”
She nods. “Suuure you do. I know you, Rawley. You’ll pick up a girl on the flight back to Vegas.”
I shrug. “Flight attendants can be hot. There’s a certain mystique—”
She smacks my shoulder, and I laugh out loud. “I’m kidding, Gran. Really. No, I’ve given up women. I need a break.”
She nods. “A break.”
“No more women.”
Her brows shoot up. “No more women.”
But I like women, the little voice in my mind reminds me. I don’t like cold beds and being alone. Will it hurt to have just one little hookup?
I finish my drink.
Katie left her phone on the table, and it’s buzzing next to me.
Miranda
I look away. I don’t want to see the message. But it buzzes again, and I’m drawn to the screen like a moth to flame.
What do you think of the new tagline?? “Sugar Daddies: Where All Your Dreams Are Sweet Dreams.”
I shove away from the table. I need another drink.
Chapter 1
Emmeline
A two-digit number flashes at me from the screen of the ATM. Fuck me—is that really my bank account balance? I’m never going to make it through the week—much less the last few months of my last year of med school—on twenty-three dollars.
I pace up and down the street, mentally berating myself for doing this again.
That’s it. This is where the rubber meets the road. I won’t make rent. I knew it would be tough going through med school financially, even with my tuition paid. I knew I’d have to stretch. But who knew a new transmission for my car would cost that much?
Ugggghhhh.
I’ll have to suck up my pride and move out, waiting for the day until I can afford a place of my own again. I make up my mind, take a deep breath, and give myself a little pep talk. “You can do this. It’ll be great.”
And maybe...I can talk to her about how I can earn some more money, stat. I stop pacing, and can feel my eyes widening when a thought comes to me.
No, no, I can’t, no way.
Well...maybe.
No!
Yes. If I’m honest… I’ve been fantasizing about doing this.
Before I can have another argument with myself, I grab my phone from my purse and dial my BFF Lexi. It’s time to cash in on her offer to let me stay with her at her sister’s swanky guest house. I hate that I’m not gonna be able to make next month’s rent. I push a dark brown lock of hair out of my eyes, and slide the phone to my ear, waiting for her to answer.
“Hello?” There’s eighties music blaring in the background and the sound of her heavy breathing. She must be working out. Again.
“Hey, showgirl! How’s the dance practice going?”
“I can kick my leg all the way up to my face, just like I used to!” I hear her give a groan and a victory yell. “See!”
I give a laugh. “Honey, I can’t see you. This isn’t a video call.”
“Oh, right. Gah—I’ve got to eat something. I’m losing my mind. Hang on.”
I wait, hearing her cut the music. She opens and shuts a door—the fridge?—and the sound of chewing comes over the line. “Sorry. Grabbing some leftover Pad Thai. What’s up?”
Knots form in my stomach. I hate asking for help. Like, loathe it in the pit of my core. My gaze goes to the now blank screen of the ATM and I remember I have no other choice. “Lex?”
“Yes?” She slurps a noodle. “Spit it out, babe.”
“You know how you offered to, uh…” I can’t even say it, I’m so humiliated to have to ask. “When you told me I could stay with you—”