Page 66 of Sugar

When the dewy glisten I was working up began to turn into outright sweat that would smear my makeup and frizz my hair, I hurried into the hallway to knock on my neighbor’s door.

A dude answered and scanned down my body. “Guessing you’re not my ramen.”

“I am not,” I confirmed. “Is Cassie here?”

“Nah, she’s at work.”

I liked Cassie. I trusted Cassie. Assuming this was someone she felt comfortable enough to leave alone in her apartment, by the transitive property, I also trusted him.

At least enough to ask him for a weird favor in the middle of the hallway.

“Can you do me a favor?” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Can you help me tie this?”

His gaze narrowed. “Is this some sort of test?”

“Only of my sanity.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure,” he said, though he didn’t sound sure about it.

I spun and gathered my hair over one shoulder.

“What am I doing here?” he asked.

“Tighten the straps like laces and then tie them.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, but I felt the first tug just as a gruff voice bit out, “Having fun, Madeline?”

The guy behind me released his hold on the straps, and the fabric began to drop. I almost let it, too. I was too busy trying to stop my eyes from bugging out of my head and my tongue from unfurling.

Wow.

I’d seen Easton in a suit a few times, so I wouldn’t think a classic tux would be that different. I was very wrong. He looked cool and refined.

Elevated beyond his already otherworldly levels of handsome.

It clearly wasn’t a rented tux that’d seen a hundred proms and weddings. The cut perfectly accentuated his tall frame, broad shoulders, and fit body. Rather than a black bow tie, he wore a burgundy one that matched perfectly with my dress.

A dress I was about to lose.

I caught the draping fabric seconds before I gave Easton a free show.

Or a not free show, in our case.

“Good, you’re here.” I looked over my shoulder at the man. “Enjoy your ramen.”

“I… Uh… Thanks?” With one last bewildered expression, he retreated into Cassie’s apartment.

I kept a tight grip on my chest as I moved to Easton. “What’re you doing here?”

“Picking you up.”

“I meanhere. On my floor. How did you even know which floor was mine?”

“We’ve been over this. I’m thorough.” He pushed my ajar door the rest of the way open and walked inside.

Into my apartment.

My very cute, but also slightly messy apartment that looked like it was occupied by a very cute, but also slightly messy college student.

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