“This…” Her voice trails off as she motions between us with her hands.
“What about this?” I’m sliding my jeans up and buttoning them. Snatching my shirt off the floor, I slip it back on and then rake a hand through my hair, straightening it although I know there’s no fixing it. I pick up the jacket and hold it out to her. “You’ll need this.”
“No.” Her blue eyes are big as she darts them around the garage as if looking for answers there. “Look, I’m not sure this was…” She stops, chewing on her lips.
My mouth tightens.
“Babe, what’s to regret? What’s wrong with seeing what this is? It’s good, right?”
She flushes, the color rising from her throat up to her face. “I’ve told you before—don’t call me babe. My ex did—”
I go from sated to annoyed to pissed off. “Who is this asshole? That Bennett guy Lola mentioned? Fuck him. I’m not him.”
There’s a hesitant look on her face as she opens her mouth to speak but doesn’t. Instead, she paces around the garage, her dress swishing around her long legs.
I’m scared she’s going to leave and I move with her, turning her around to face me. “Wait, Sugar. Look, I—I just had mind-blowing sex and you immediately regret it and bring him up to me. How do you expect me to react?”
She bites her bottom lip. “Not everything is about you, Z. I have a history with my ex, okay? I don’t want to get hurt. You…you have girls all over you, all the time, just like he did.”
I inhale. “Right. Next time, I won’t call you babe. Hell, I’ll never call anyone that ever again. Will that make you happy, girl of the month?”
“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Her face is pale as she rubs at her cheeks.
“We both knew this would happen. Right?” I’m grappling for words here. Shit, I don’t know how to handle a girl who’s so…closed off after sex. Where’s the giddiness in her that I feel? Where’s the need to do it again, as soon as possible? Fuck. Maybe…maybe I read her all wrong and she just isn’t into me. No. I know this is good. I knew it at the Kappa party.
“We were supposed to keep this unemotional,” she says quietly.
“I don’t even care about that bullshit bargain. This is about you and me.”
“It’s not bullshit to me.” Her voice is flat.
I look up to the ceiling, sighing. “We’ll go to my room and figure this out, okay? If you’re lucky, I’ll fuck you again. You don’t seem to have an issue as long as my dick’s inside you.” I’m teasing, completely joking, trying to lighten up what is getting to be an out-of-control moment, but it’s a crap thing to say and maybe there’s a small part of me that’s scared too, and when I get nervous, my mouth says shit I don’t mean.
Her nose flares and she shakes her head at me. “I’m leaving.”
“The hell you are. You’re supposed to be here with me.”
“No. I’m here for me, Z.” She gives me a disappointed look and marches out the door.
My heart flops around in my chest. What the fuck just happened? Goddamn.
She…she left me.
21
Sugar
I bolt out into the yard and head for my car, sans shoes and coat. At least my little sequined crossbody purse is draped across my chest. I huff out a laugh that really isn’t a laugh but more like a what in the hell just happened and what am I going to do now sound.
I feel tears welling up and I fight to keep them at bay.
I wouldn’t put it past Zack to chase after me—I’ve never met a more determined person—so I pull up the hem of my dress and jog, which isn’t such a bad idea anyway considering it’s cold as hell. I’m insane to be running barefoot across a street in Minnesota at the end of January with no jacket on. Thank goodness we’re having unnaturally warm weather, a balmy thirty-three degrees. My feet are chunks of ice as I reach my truck, crawl inside, and crank it up. I sit here, my head resting against the steering wheel, letting the heat kick in before I take off.
My throat feels tight and I want to cry, but I clench my fists, determined to not give in.
Z and I just blew up at each other.
Why?
What the hell just happened?
Why are we so combustible?
Why am I so upset?
Why do I want to go back to him and see where we went wrong?
You can’t, my inner voice says, and I hunch over. I think about the girls there tonight, the ones I can’t compete with. What if…what if I fall for him?
Fuck.
A tear courses down my face, and I grimace as more fall. Wetness tracks down my cheeks, and I close my eyes and put my face in the stream of hot air that’s blowing from the dash.
After a few seconds, I gather myself together and pull out onto the street. Not wanting to go back to my dismal dorm, I end up driving around Lake Sparrow. I contemplate checking in with Mara, but she’s in work mode at this hour and I don’t want to bug her. Taylor and Poppy…I could call them, but they each had their own thing to do tonight. When midnight looms, I run through the drive-through at the all-night Krispy Kreme—sorry to cheat on you, Joaquin—and go back to the dorm. I could have bought extras earlier when I picked up Eric’s, but I didn’t think about it. I guess I’m jonesing for donuts because I’m sad. Ugh. Someday, I’m going to have to cut back on my treats, but not today. Not today.
I park illegally, near the inner circle where people walk, because I’m shoeless. I drift in through the front door of the lobby and it’s mostly quiet, thank goodness. I don’t want anyone to see what a mess I am right now. The girl behind the desk arches a brow when I pass by and then calls my name.
“Hey, you’re Sugar, right, in 412?”
I plod back over to her. “Yeah?”
She picks up a small vase of daisies and sets them on the counter. I blink down at them and look at her. It’s the third one in a month.
She shrugs. “No card, but a really hot guy with dark hair dropped them off for you. He said he was your boyfriend and wanted to come up to your room, but well, it’s past visiting hours and all, although I was tempted. He’s hot. Nice catch there.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my ex.”
“Okay.” She shrugs and goes back to her desk.
I exhale and pick up the vase. Fucking Bennett. Now I have two things to carry upstairs. “Thanks.”
I take off for the steps, my feet heavy as I climb the flights up to my floor. Periodically, I pause and look down at the white and yellow flowers.
I glare down at them. Daisies. They aren’t even my favorite, but he always got them for me because he liked them. “They’re glorified weeds,” I say to no one and keep walking. “If you would have just listened to me, Bennett, you’d know I don’t care for pale flowers with no soul.”
Maybe Julia will like them.
Once inside my room, I see that she’s gone. Typical. I set down the bag of sugary fried dough and flowers, glad I have my entire dorm room to myself.
I yank open my dresser to pull out a Boobie Bungalow pink tank and a pair of booty shorts. For once the stupid radiator in the room seems to be working, but there’s no valve so it’s hot as heck. Once the torn dress is off and hung up nice and neat, I pull out a half-full bottle of Grey Goose from the top shelf in my closet and pour a few inches into a plastic cup. From the fridge, I pull out a club soda and a lime. When you’re a girl dealing with a cheating ex and a creaky old dorm room, these are basic tools of survival.
“I’m sorry you got ripped in the crazy sex,” I say to the dress with a little sigh as I plop back down on my bed. I keep a small sewing kit in my desk, and I make a mental note to see if I can fix the tear. If I can’t, I’ll send it to the alterations place across the street from BB’s.
Annoyed and frustrated, I fluff up my pillows, flop down, and turn on HBO.
“Game of Thrones,” I snap into my remote. I need Jon Snow, stat.
I’ve gone through one drink and an entire episode of my re-watch, and I’m at the part where a zombie shows up— Someone bangs on my door.
“Great timing! Almost pissed myself,” I mutter. Setting my drink on my desk next to me, I dash to the door.
“Who is it?”
“Z.”
My stomach clenches. He came after me? I put my hands on my hips. “Shouldn’t you be at the party?”
“I left. Went for a run.” His voice is low.
“But it’s Eric’s birthday.”
I hear a sigh. “The last I looked, Eric was with twins, one on either side of him. He won’t even miss me.”
There’s a long pause.
“Are you going to let me in?”
I chew on my lips. “Not a good idea.”
“Are you afraid we’ll have mind-blowing sex again?”
My teeth snap together. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we said we wouldn’t.”
“I knew we would.”
“Well, I thought we were on the same page.”
“We might have been, but then you walked into my house—”
“I have neighbors you know. They tend to listen.”
He lets out a small laugh, but I sense the strain underneath. “Come on, Sugar, let me in.”