Page 18 of Sucker Love (Sugar Pill Duet #1)

I move back a little, watching his flushed face.

His eyes are fever bright, glittering beneath their veil of dark lashes as they lock onto me.

His lips are puffy and I want to bite into their pillowy softness and hear him whimper some more.

Leave more marks on him, lay claim to him and ward off anyone else who would have him.

But before I can kiss him again, he whispers, “I have to go. Or I’ll be late.”

The words douse my near-frantic arousal.

Or at least temper it for the time being.

I come back to myself, touching down to earth once again.

“Right. Yeah.” My hand brushes his hair back and lingers, thumb rubbing his reddened cheek, and he turns his face into the caress. “No time for even a quick cuddle, huh?”

Noel nips my fingers and gets up, zipping himself back into his jeans. “Nope.”

I watch him as he pulls off his shirt, balls it up and throws it in the hamper.

He pulls another out of his dresser and tugs it over his disheveled head.

I watch him, wiping my hand on a tissue.

He is fascinating in motion, for some reason; the way he moves and carries himself with an elegance that belies his chaos, and my mind goes back to what he said the night before.

“Hey,” I say. “Noel.”

His head pops out of his hooded sweatshirt as he tugs it on. “Huh?”

“It’s your birthday tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.” He stoops to pick up his bag. “Why?”

“I was just wondering if you’re doing anything. With your friends or family or whatever.”

He scrunches his nose at me as he whips the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Not with my family. Never with my family.” The words come out vehement, almost vicious as he asserts this to me .

I leave that particular subject alone for now. “Alright,” I say. “Well, if you don’t have any plans...maybe we can do something.”

His regard is wary as he stares at me, gripping his bag’s strap with both hands. “Like what?” The way he asks it is so comically suspicious I almost laugh, like the idea of doing something enjoyable for one’s birthday is a concept beyond foreign.

Souvenir of a shitty childhood. Those words echo in my head, sober me up a little and make me bite my tongue for a moment. Maybe he hasn’t had a nice birthday, ever. Maybe every year was overshadowed not only by Valentine’s day but also whatever it was he had going on at home.

“I could make you a nice dinner after I get home from work. Some home Greek cooking, if you’re into that.” And maybe something a little more visceral for dessert. I raise my eyebrows suggestively at him, smiling a little.

Noel studies me, the dubious expression easing into something more neutral and unreadable. “Really?” His tone is only a little scornful. “You wanna make me dinner? Like—what, a date?”

“Like it’s your birthday,” I correct him. And you get a nice birthday surprise after. What’s a little coitus between friends? That was the point of this arrangement, after all.

“It just sounds kinda romantic.” He’s smiling though, mouth turning up at the corners just a bit. “Roomie.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” I return. “That dinner you took me out to the other night was pretty intimate. ”

“You said you wanted something nice!” he protests good-naturedly. “I delivered.”

“And this is just a nice home cooked meal,” I say. “What’s the matter? Don’t like Greek food?” I’m prepared to be offended if the answer is no.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had it.”

“First time for everything.” Lobbing his words back at him. “C’mon, Noel. Promise you’ll love it.”

“Maybe I will.” He gives me a coy, lopsided shrug. “I dunno. It’s awfully nice of you, Luca. Sure haven’t managed to fall madly in love with me already?”

He’s joking, of course. But the funniest thing is that in another lifetime, that probably could’ve been true. If I was about a decade younger, maybe. If I had less of my own baggage. If he was less of the way he is and I was less of the way I am.

No, that’s not quite true. Maybe it is his turbulence that draws me to him. Almost against my will I think of how it was with him in my arms earlier, cuddled up with a cup of coffee, and how good that felt. Almost right. Like there was, in fact, a Noel-shaped void about me needing to be filled.

Stupid. Logically I know it is simply a strange honeymoon phase in this arrangement we have, a matter of getting high off good chemistry after years of suppressing every aspect of myself for the sake of everyone else.

It could’ve been anyone, not just him, any guy who wanted me the way that I was without complication.

Romance, soulmates, et cetera were not in the cards for me.

Not now, and maybe not ever, but definitely not now .

I can let myself enjoy this, though. There is no harm in letting myself have this thing for as long as it lasts, and savor it to the fullest. No point in holding back now. I’ve been doing that my whole life.

Noel’s already halfway out the door. “Alright,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll let you treat me for my birthday.”

The front door slams. I collect myself and get up to shower. I’ve got some research to do before tomorrow.