Sugar Pie by Victoria Pinder

5

Kerry

A second shower in one day wasn’t my norm, but I needed to relax my muscles, wash out my underwear, and leave them by the bedroom window. Soon, I would get myself more—underwear was a necessity.

The apartment was nice, and the mattress seemed firm, but my heart pounded. I was tense.

I finished in the shower quickly, as the pulse of the water didn’t work to silence my mind. Once I’d toweled off, I turned my phone on and saw three messages from Romeo and four from my mother. My head began to pound, so I turned off the phone.

The day had been long, but I still wasn’t tired. I crawled onto the bed to meditate. I crossed my legs with only a towel covering me. I imagined Warren walking in and tugging my towel right off and got chills. We would fall backward, his kiss would leave me breathless, and I would run my hands over his hard muscles until he took me and we were one.

My center grew warmer.

I heard a knock on the door and opened my eyes. He poked his head in then out. I blinked, and he said, “Can I—“

I pulled my T-shirt over my head and yanked on my one pair of jeans. A second later, I opened the door and saw Warren pacing. Goose bumps covered my body, and I swallowed hard. I’d only half imagined my fantasy, but my cheeks heated as I rubbed the back of my neck. “What do you want?”

His face was red. “The light was on, and since you’re up and not using the shower, I hoped it was okay to get a five-minute shower, too, before bed.”

Fair enough. It was his place, not mine. Luckily, he couldn’t see my underwear on the window, as I’d put a vase in front of it. I nodded and stepped out of the way.

He passed me. “Thanks.”

I looked into the living room and saw he’d set up a bed for himself on the couch. He clearly meant to keep the lines intact.

I closed my eyes and hoped he hadn’t seen any of my private parts earlier. My skin singed as though he had, but I hoped I was just self-conscious.

He came out a few minutes later, wearing boxers and a T-shirt, his hair still wet.

My soon-to-be ex wore less than he did to bed, but my eyes drank in the sight of Warren. He moved out of my way so I could head back in and close the door.

I tensed and squared my shoulders. I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep if I didn’t calm down. “Can we talk for a few minutes? I’m slightly nervous about staying here indefinitely… with you.”

He fixed the couch, put the throw over the back of the fabric, then waved for me to join him. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

I was turned on enough that I couldn’t walk straight, but I took the seat on the other side of the couch, leaving tons of room between us.

Silence clung to the air as he waited for me to speak. I massaged the back of my head. “When’s the last time you had a relationship?”

He relaxed his shoulders and gave me a smile that made me believe he was nice, but I refused to accept that. “I was seeing a woman casually a few weeks ago, but we parted amicably. Why did you marry a doctor?”

“Amicably” sounded nice. I began massaging my shoulder as if that might stop me from being so tense. “I don’t want to talk about me yet. I want to be relaxed near you.”

He nodded, and then the gleam in his gaze captured my attention. “Fair enough. It’s been a while, probably since college, that I’ve seen anyone seriously. My work didn’t leave a lot of time for myself.”

“And your family.”

“It’s true. With eleven brothers and two parents, it’s almost like every weekend there is a birthday.”

All boys meant his mother was a saint. My father, when he spoke to me, only ever said he was glad I was a girl and didn’t need too much attention. “Sounds fun. My parents were socially active with the country club, and so was my husband with his doctor friends, but I was never directly involved with anything.”

He shook his head. “You could adopt children if you didn’t want to give birth.”

“Wow.” I curled a leg on the couch and stared at him. “That’s so admirable. I thought about adoption but never followed through, as Romeo liked his quiet life.”

He shrugged, but his face brightened. “Maman believed she had more than enough to share, which she did, and Pedar does whatever she wants.”

A house full of love had always been a daydream. I put my other leg up and curled my hand on the back of the sofa. “That sounds nicer than my parents. They’re married, but I don’t think they’ve spoken to each other privately in years.”

He relaxed but kept his hands on his lap. “That had to be hard to be near.”

I leaned on my hand. “We all have our baggage. That’s life, y’know.” I scooted closer and met his gaze. “So tell me something you like to do for fun that has nothing to do with work.”

He pressed his lips together as if I’d asked him to solve world hunger. “Work on my golf game, I guess.”

I laughed and nodded—that was fair enough. In Florida, where I grew up, golf was a common hobby. “My dad would like that answer.”

“I’ll get a new hobby if it bothers you.” He leaned on his hand too. “What about you?”

“I don’t want to change my hobbies.”

“Of course.” He laughed. “Not what I meant.”

I had never done much. I kept my voice low. “I like baking.”

He laughed and patted his belly. “I love eating. You’re the perfect roommate.”

I joined his glee for a second but then winked. “I didn’t say I’d share.”

He opened his mouth wide, as though I’d offended his honor. “Now, you’re being mean.”

Maybe I was. I shrugged and vowed to make him something sweet in the future. “Fair enough, but we have no baking tools in this kitchen, so don’t expect anything anytime soon.”

“I won’t.” He held his hand up like he was swearing on a bible.

Neither one of us moved for a second. He then pointed to the kitchen and said, “You want to finish the beer?”

I jumped up. “Sure.”

We both walked to the kitchen and each grabbed a beer. Then we walked back to our seats. “So what kind of woman are you usually attracted to?” I asked.

He waited till I was sitting. “Skinny blond models.”

I almost spit out the beer but then felt my face grow red. I would never qualify as skinny—I was all curves. “Ah, okay.”

He cringed and held his beer. “I’m joking. It wasn’t my best joke, but we said we’d be friends, and I hope you trust me enough to go to sleep alone soon.”

My heart danced a little differently. I wanted him to want me. It hit me with force, and I remembered the small fantasy that had played when I had tried to meditate. I felt my cheeks redden again and quickly looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t know what it meant if he noticed. I changed the subject to safer ground. “What do you have lined up for tomorrow?”

He sipped his beer and nodded. “A few small jobs. I could really use some help building my client list.”

Once again, his drive struck me. I needed to have that if I was to find out how to live. I sipped my beer. “You’re different than other men, y’know.”

His gaze narrowed. “How?”

Heat rushed through me—not that it mattered, as the sparks were useless. I stared at my beer. “I’m so used to just being told what will happen that I’m not sure how to respond to polite and respectable.”

His lips curled higher. “My mother would be very proud of me at this moment.”

I finished my beer and stared at him. I’d always wanted to be part of a family that actually supported me, but I thought that was a fantasy. I relaxed and stretched. “You bring her up a lot.”

He drained his beer. “Me talking about her makes you feel more comfortable. I want you to feel safe so you can rest.”

I stood then took my empty bottle to the kitchen. He did the same. My heart thundered in my chest. “One more thing.”

He stared down at me. My lips tingled as if he would kiss me, but he didn’t. “Yeah?”

My skin buzzed. “About what you walked into earlier?”

He winked at me and stepped back. “Your lack of clothes?”

“Yeah.”

His cheeks darkened. “I noticed you have no other clothes and are cleaning them daily.”

My face burned—the whole scene was how people died of embarrassment. I’d always thought that saying was overkill, but I was starting to second-guess that. I cringed. “I… this wasn’t what I meant.”

“We’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow. I’ll drive you to the store after work.”

He’d noticed. I’d never worried about buying myself anything—money had never been a problem before. I couldn’t look at him. “I’m used to having more…”

He massaged the back of his head and nodded. “Me too. I’m hoping as long as you’re here, we both ease into our new lives a little better.”

I breathed. It was better that we didn’t talk about my fantasy. We could only be friends. But I cupped his face, and a thrill rushed through me. I wished I was different and free. “Good night for real, Warren.”

He blinked slowly. “Night.”

When I closed the bedroom door a second time, I knew I would rest. Warren was one of the rare good guys out there, and I didn’t have anything to worry about, which was good because I had nothing to offer him or anyone until I figured myself out.