Page 102 of Sugar

What am I doing?

I don’t hug Easton.

Not that there wasn’t any contact. He held my hand. Or looped my arm through his. Or put his hand at my lower back—making me melt.

But I never just outright hugged him.

I awkwardly tried to pull away and play it off, but he didn’t let me. His hands on my hips tightened.

I locked my knees and stayed focused when all I wanted was to selfishly keep him there. “The party.”

“Not important.”

“But—”

He raised an eyebrow that was filled with warning. He compounded it by pushing his shoulders back in that way that made him more imposing.

And made me feel vulnerable in that way I didn’t understand but still liked far too much.

His expression softened, and he lowered his voice. “I also missed you.”

Oh hell.

I might as well have been a card table with as fast as those words made me fold.

It was just as well. Even if I wanted to demand he leave—which I very much didnot—that wasn’t the way things worked between us.

“How did you even know where I was?” I asked.

“Signage in the background of the picture you sent showing this place has a D health inspection rating.”

“Wait, it does?” Chris’ lip curled, and he pushed his drink toward the center of the table.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “The D stands fordirtcheapdrinksbutdon’torder food.”

“Noted.” Easton didn’t look as horrified as Chris did. Contrary to my initial assumptions, he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the dive at all. He was out of place among the college-aged patrons, but part of that was the slacks and matching black dress shirt he wore. A bigger part was how he carried himself with an effortless coolness.

And the biggest part was that he was like a billion times hotter than anyone else there.

He lowered me to sit on the stool before taking the abandoned one Greer happily shoved at him. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad it’s going to good use. I sure don’t need it,” she said, more to me than Easton.

He answered anyway. “I heard you lost some dead weight. Congrats. Your drinks are on me in celebration.”

“You might regret that,” she said before taking a healthy gulp from her glass.

Easton nudged the one he brought closer to me.

“Make me switch to water after, though.” I was already drunk but had somehow managed to turn my impulsivity into a win.

I wasn’t about to push that good luck.

“You got it.” Wrapping one arm around me, he extended the other to Chris. “Easton.”

“Chris. Wren’s boyfriend.”

She let out a happy little sigh that turned into a happier one when he whispered something that sent a flush across her cheeks.

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