Sugarbaby by CRYSTAL GREEN

full of helpful tips like that. And Lord knew I needed all the distance I could get from . . . Reeves.
    555-8465:
    Why’d you leave the Club so fast?
    Okay, clearly the only way I was going to get through to a hardheaded tycoon—jeez, a
tycoon
—was to lay everything out there and give it to him straight, like a memo or a report. Something he’d understand.
    Jadyn:
    Listen, I’m not trying to play hard to get. I’m simply not interested.
    Was he laughing uproariously yet? How many waitresses had turned him down lately?
    555-8465:
    Interested in what . . . ?
    Cute. It was the dot, dot, dot that told me he was stringing me along, wanting me to admit to what we were really talking about here. Attraction. But the doubts crept up on me, anyway: What if I was reading too much into him? What if he was just looking for a temporary chat buddy right now or . . .
    Right—that’s why he’d set up that VIP room at Hellfire: to chat. But I still couldn’t believe he’d be into me, Random Miss Sexter.
    Jadyn:
    If you don’t know what you’re interested in, that’s not my problem. I’d see a therapist about it, STAT.
    555-8465:
    See, you’re VERY fun.
    Jadyn:
    And you’re the sort of guy I try to avoid.
    555-8465:
    What kind is that? The kind who’s fun, too? Come on, Jadyn, you *know* I’m fun. Everyone needs some of that in life.
    Jadyn:
    I’ve had my fill.
    555-8465:
    You certainly seem to want more of it right now.
    Dang it, he had me there. If I didn’t need some of what he was bringing, why couldn’t I keep myself from answering these texts? And why couldn’t I stop breaking off into la-la land via the Noah Reeves scenic route every five minutes? I couldn’t get him out of my head.
    It probably would’ve taken superpowers to stay away from him, but I drew upon the only power I had—the truth.
    Jadyn:
    I don’t know why I’m still chatting. You remind me of an ex—or two—and let’s just say they didn’t leave a good impression.
    555-8465:
    How do I remind you of them?
    Jadyn:
    Too much charm, not enough sincerity. We’re gonna leave it at that.
    So far, I hadn’t experienced any text-pauses with Noah, not like I had before when Simmons had been messaging. Was it because we’d face-to-faced and Noah wasn’t just a bunch of words on a screen like Simmons had been?
    I wished he wasn’t so easy to talk to, so easy to like.
    His answer buzzed me.
    555-8465:
    You’re one hell of a guarded woman.
    Ah, so he was finally getting it. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or bummed about that. From the way something in my chest sank, I knew whatever I was feeling wasn’t happy.
    555-8465:
    Guarded and unhappy is no way to live. Believe me.
    Now I was the one who hesitated. He seemed to be saying a lot more about himself than what was on the surface, and damn me, but I wanted to know what he was truly getting at. I wanted to rest my hand on his, just as I would with anyone who needed a good listen, but with Noah . . .
    I was one-hundred percent certain it wouldn’t end there. He was surely the type who took, and I’d always been the kind to give—at least before I’d learned the hard way.
    555-8465:
    Do me a favor?
    Jadyn:
    Depends.
    555-8465:
    Just look out your window.
    Dear God. What now?
    I glanced down at myself. I had on a dust-covered T-shirt, jeans with holes in the knees, old kicks. My hair wasn’t any neater in the haphazard ponytail I’d put it in, and a jolt of panic sent me to my feet. If Noah had done something impulsive like search out my address and come to my house, I was gonna die.
    With my heart in my throat, I dragged over a stepstool, climbed on it, and peered out one of the dirty rectangular windows of the garage.
    Shit
.
    Even though I’d just thought it, not said it, I still covered my mouth and ducked.