Sugar - Page 103

When the doors closed, leaving only me and my date, my hand trembled trying to pull the key from the lock. Micah and I were going to discuss his offer and come to a final decision. I wasn’t ready, but with the dark place my head had been I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready, but I’d delayed the conversation long enough, and there was really no point in holding onto the past.

How involved did a guy have to be to give someone a rose on Valentine’s Day? My stomach turned, and I quickly pushed all worries about Noah out of my mind.

Micah followed me inside, removing my wrap and I went to the stereo to put on some music. It was starting to snow.

Wandering to the window, I stared down at the street. Who was Noah meeting on Valentine’s Day? Were they serious? He bought her a rose.

Micah brushed a gentle finger down my arm and handed me a glass of wine. “Come sit by the fire, love. It’s cold by the window.”

My feet wouldn’t move. “It’s snowing,” I whispered, an unfamiliar sense of longing filling my chest.

“Tomorrow the streets are going to be a disaster. I can’t wait for spring.”

I used to think the same thing, but tonight, my thoughts were different. “I think it’s pretty.”

He led me to the couch, and I sat down, doing my best to focus on my company. “I know you’ve been sad since your trip home, Avery. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.” And as much as cutting off the last of my family hurt, it wasn’t the route of my pain.

“Have you put any more thought into my offer?”

I thought about it every day, but I never made any headway. “I have some concerns.”

“Such as?”

“Would the arrangement include sex?”

If my question surprised him, he didn’t let it show. “We would have a monogamous agreement. Intimacy would, of course, be open to discussion. Is that something you’d like to address now?”

How long could we possibly go without eventually sleeping together? Even a cactus needed water from time to time. “Isn’t it something you’d require … at some point.”

“I think it’s something we both would come to expect. But I can be patient.”

There were so many ways to have sex. Everyone was different, and sometimes the most unassuming people were the most surprising. “What if we’re not compatible in that way?”

“I think we’ll manage.”

It was the first time I felt wiser than him. We’ll manage? He knew I had a bleak past, but I made it too easy for him to believe the fantasy. He didn’t know me. He assumed the woman he spent time with was the basis of my character. It wasn’t. I was nothing like my sugar baby persona. Eventually, he’d realize that and then where would we be?

“What would change for me?”

He raised a brow. “You’d have anything you needed. You know I never mind providing—”

“That’s not what I mean. There are expectations. You want a certain kind of woman in your life. You’re very specific. I do my best to be that woman—”

“You’ve yet to disappoint me, Avery.”

“But that woman’s not me.”

He frowned. “Of course she is. People change. We grow. If we play a role long enough, it eventually becomes real.”

Maybe that worked for Micah, but it wouldn’t work for me. I didn’t want to become this agreeable puppet that laughed at jokes that weren’t funny and smiled through boring conversations. What good was a relationship if none of it was real? And where would the artifice end if sex complicated things? Would I be expected to fake orgasms, too?

I sipped my wine, wishing my glass held something stronger. I couldn’t agree to this. I didn’t want this to be my only option. And even if it was, I still didn’t want it.

“Micah, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but—”

“You know I think you're a beautiful woman, Avery. I told you so the first day we met. My opinion’s only improved over the years.” His voice lowered. “Has nothing changed for you?”

I squirmed, somewhat uncomfortable with the question. “I care about you, Micah. You’re very special to me, but I don’t think we have the right sort of chemistry for what you’re asking. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

His glance drifted toward the door. “Is it him?”

The pressure in my chest intensified. “I… I’m not sure.”

“Are you in love with him?”

I laughed without humor. “I don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone.” It didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t love me back. I was a scorpion. “If being in love feels similar to emotional agony, then I might be.”

His hand rested over my knee, squeezing in gentle comfort. “When the person doesn’t love you back, it can feel similar to agony.”

Ouch. My insides clenched uncomfortably.

Tags: Lydia Michaels Romance
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