Sugar

Her hair didn’t smell especially nice, and her lips were too thin for the sort of kissing I enjoyed. Though she’d been a fun date and an indisputably attractive woman, there was zero chemistry.

It pissed me off that I seemed to measure every quality against Avery. I was going out with Morgan to get over Avery. It should be good that they were so different. But I was the fool who kept looking for a clone.

I made two cups of coffee and hardly paid attention to how she took hers. What was the point?

I could probably go to bed with her. She’d said something about having an open morning. But the desire just wasn’t there. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I should just do it, force myself to get into it so I could get over my damn neighbor.

“You don’t talk much.”

“Sorry?” I stopped staring at my coffee and glanced at her, her words taking a moment to register. “Oh. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

She studied me for a moment then put her cup on the counter and stood. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to…” What was I doing? I only wanted to keep her here long enough for Avery to think we were fooling around. Good God, I was pathetic. “I’m sorry if this isn’t ending the way you hoped. I have a lot on my mind.”

She smiled and pressed her fingers to the back of my hand. “Hey, tonight was fun, and I got a free meal. At least we’ll know each other the next time we’re out for your sister’s birthday.”

I appreciated her letting me off the hook. “It has nothing to do with you. I’m sort of hung up on—”

“Your neighbor?”

Startled she’d guessed so accurately, I drew back. “Please tell me Laurel told you that.”

Morgan laughed. “She warned me you were getting over a girl who lived in your building. And I sensed we had an audience in the hall. It was the first time you got affectionate all night.”

“Sorry. That was a total dick move.”

“No, I’d call it an extremely human response. How about this? If I ever need to make an ex jealous and you happen to be single, you help me out the way I helped you tonight. Deal?”

Now that the pressure was off, Morgan actually seemed like a pretty cool woman. “Deal.”

“Should we kiss goodnight in the hall or are we good?”

“I think we’re good.” If anything, this was a reality check to how pathetic I’d become. Thank God Morgan was cool, or I’d be totally humiliated. “Thanks again for tonight.”

“My pleasure.” She kissed my cheek and pulled on her coat. “For what it’s worth, Noah, I think you’re a pretty great guy. If she doesn’t see that she probably doesn’t deserve you.”

I don’t know what she sees. “Thanks.”

Walking her to the door, I noted that Avery’s apartment appeared dark. Though she looked hurt to see me with another woman, she probably didn’t care all that much. I needed to nail this coffin shut once and for all.

“Goodnight, Noah.”

“Goodnight. Be safe getting home.”

As I shut the door, I let out a breath. It was a New Year. I’d spent most of Christmas moping into my beer and making my sister’s ears bleed. This had gone on long enough. Even if Morgan wasn’t the answer, she was a step in the right direction.

I was ready to be in a relationship again, but the last thing I needed was a relationship with another woman who didn’t want to be with me. And that truth seemed to shake some sense into me more than anything else.

22

Avery

Sometimes I was grateful I wasn’t some above-average, off the charts prodigy. My classes were never easy, and I struggled to keep my GPA above a 2.5. The goal had always been to make Dean’s List and graduate with honors, but I lived in the real world, where I was lucky to get accepted at a top-tier university and invited back each year. The beauty of my struggle was that it kept my mind occupied for most hours of the day.

But there were moments when my syllabus was handled, and my clients were scheduled, and boring, normal tasks had to get done. Hence the joy of lugging groceries from the corner market all the way back to my place on Society Hill in the middle of January.

Slipping on a sheet of ice and catching my balance just as Winston caught the door, I huffed and blew a stray hair out of my face from under my wool cap.

“Can I help you with that, Ms. Johansson?”

Before I could vocalize an answer, he relieved me of my bags. “Thank you, Winston.”

“You gotta watch getting around in those shoes. I’ll salt the walk again soon as I’m done helping you to the elevator.”