Page 4 of Sucker Love (Sugar Pill Duet #1)

And it’s pretty odd to find myself wanting someone so badly when my marriage ended not even a week ago.

It’s been over for a while, but still. Here I am suddenly very single and also very willing to mingle, apparently, and it’s giving me just a little bit of whiplash.

The depth of my wanting—the need for a physical human connection with someone I’m attracted to.

Exploring this part of myself after suppressing it for so long.

I’ve been so devoted to making everyone else happy because that made my life easier.

Freedom is a frightening thing.

I pluck a snowflake out of my eyelash while Amelia sniffs around a straggly tree. “Good girl,” I encourage her, bordering on begging. I want to go back inside and take a hot shower. But my words have the exact opposite effect and she continues her dogged trek onward. I follow her, sighing.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I transfer the leash to my other hand as I dig for it, though I could’ve simply dropped it and Amelia wouldn’t have noticed, fully immersed in finding the perfect spot to potty as she was.

I nearly drop it with numb fingers before I manage to unlock it and see a text from an unfamiliar number, but it quickly becomes obvious who it’s from .

It’s a blurry, red selfie of Noel from the club, a pout on his generous mouth.

Even in a shitty picture he’s gorgeous—large, down-turned eyes rimmed with smudged liner set in a narrow face framed by that dark, messy hair.

He’s got his chin in his hand and the painted nail on his pinky toys with his lower lip.

There’s a drink on the bar in front of him.

I wonder if someone else bought it for him.

My stomach sort of clenches at the thought.

Before I can react, he sends another message:

fkn asshole

I fumble for a response, some witty comeback or shut down, but now he’s calling me. I think about hanging up on him and instead answer, bringing the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I say, breathless.

“Lucaaaaa.” His voice is whiny; he’s clearly more inebriated than when I left him. “Where’d you fucking go?”

“Where—where did I go?” I ask in astonishment.

I feel like I’m going to faint. I cannot believe we’re even having this conversation right now.

My dog tugs at her leash and I realize I’m standing stock still on the sidewalk.

I trudge after her again. “You disappeared for fifteen minutes, dude. I thought you left.”

“Left? I told you I was going to the bathroom.”

“You pissed for fifteen minutes?” Of course, as soon as I say it I realize he had more options than just pissing. Which could’ve been anything, reasonable to unreasonable.

“Well, no.” He pauses. “I got tied up.”

“Um—”

“My ex-boyfriend called, actually,” he confesses, which immediately has me jumping to conclusions until he adds, “so we got into it. He was mad I wasn’t going to drop everything just to go home and let him in the house so he could grab all the shit he forgot, and then it kinda went to shit from there. That’s why I was gone so long.”

I sigh and my breath escapes my nose in a cloud. “Okay,” I say. “Well, sorry I dipped. I thought you ghosted.”

“ You ghosted.”

“Consider me suitably chastised, then.”

“Wow. That’s all?” he huffs. “You’re not even gonna come back, now that you know I didn’t ditch you?”

I am once again left scrambling for a coherent response. Ahead of me Amelia has finally found one of the six whole trees on Chauncy Street suitable for a toilet. “Listen,” I start lamely. “You’re very cute and I enjoyed our conversation?—”

Noel snorts. “But you actually just wanted an excuse to leave. Didn’t you?”

“No. No, I didn’t.” Or did I? I don’t know now. I’m getting mixed up. “I really did think you left, Noel. Like I came on too strong or something and scared you off.”

“Scared me off? I was practically dry humping you. I would’ve sucked your dick in the bathroom if you’d asked! ”

My face is hot enough that the snowflakes practically sizzle on contact with my cheeks. Amelia comes clomping back to me with pricked ears and wagging tail. She’s ready to return to the warmth and comfort of the hotel’s pillow top king bed. “Well. Like I said, I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Yes,” Noel interjects dryly, “it’s very obvious.”

“And I’m on the rebound, and...” I trail off, aware of just how messy this all sounds. I’m not making a good case for myself but maybe that’s for the best.

Except I do want to see him, bad. I want him to invite me over so I can see him in nothing but that jingling chain harness wrapped around his slender body.

I want to put hands and lips and tongue on him with a desire so intense it swamps me, makes my stomach tight and hot and breathing is suddenly hard.

It’s raw, unchecked sexual attraction, the kind I haven’t experienced in years.

“So what?” Noel is saying. “So am I.”

Amelia impatiently nudges my leg with a yip. “Look, can we talk about this some other time? I’m walking my dog.”

“You have a dog?” His voice loses the sensual, condescending edge and goes up an octave. “Oh, how cute.”

I turn around and let her tug me back in the direction of the Hyatt. “Sure do. And she sure is.”

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re not going to come back tonight, are you?”

I might, if he pushes. I’m nervous but not averse; on the contrary, I’m very much eager. I can still picture him perfectly on the dance floor, feel him pressed up against me, and my imagination gets even more creative when it undresses him.

I look down at the little boot prints my dog leaves in the snow as we cross the street and don’t say anything, taking a deep breath instead. I wonder if I’m ready to stretch my clipped wings, or if I’m just desperate. Judgment clouded by hormones.

“Meet me for coffee somewhere,” he suggests suddenly, before I can say anything. “Tomorrow. Just to talk, if you’re around. You’re at the Hyatt downtown, right?”

“Yeah, downtown.” I’m not working tomorrow, that’s no issue. My heart beats a little faster. “What, is this like a date?”

“Sure. Like a date, if you want.” Dumbass. He doesn’t actually say it, but he might as well have. It’s how I’m feeling, like the biggest fucking moron. “Yes? No?”

“Yes,” I hear myself say. I’m back at the hotel. I stamp my feet before walking through the doors, Amelia all but dragging me through. “Alright. Tomorrow, I guess.”

“I’ll text you.” He hangs up, no niceties or pretense. He’s just gone.

And I have a date, if I want. I guess.