Sugar

Sugar: 5/10 Cup

"Stay."

The deep baritone made her freeze momentarily, feeling like a burglar caught in action. Her lip was caught between her teeth as she slowly turned around, barely dressed and clutching denim in her hands like they could make her turn invisible.

Dorian's bargain of 'just one night' had actually turned into countless nights of them spending time at each other's houses, getting their fill of each other as many times as they could manage before the sun came up. It was never enough, hence the whole countless nights thing. Neither of them questioned it.

Whenever she came over to his house, Kahlia had always managed to be gone by the time he woke up. This time she'd lingered a bit more, feeling lazy and worn out after a longer night than usual and that had earned her subtracted stealth points.

"I have to go to work," she explained, slipping her legs into her shorts and sliding them up to her hips. Her thick, dark hair fell over her shoulder, halfway slipping out of the messy ponytail she'd hurriedly done.

"It's a Saturday." Dorian sat up in bed, the charcoal grey sheets falling from his toned chest and down to his defined hips. "You have the weekend off."

"We get our deliveries on Saturdays, so I go to check over the produce. Oh, my dad's flight also arrives today." Kahlia turned, searching for her shirt and finding it on the floor by the side of the bed she'd rolled out of.

The man was frowning at her, blond hair flopping over cold blue eyes messily. "Are you trying to avoid spending time with me?"

"No," she said honestly, shrugging on her tank top. "I wasn't aware you wanted to spend time with me outside of sex. You said you didn't do anything beyond one night stands."

He shrugged, flopping back down onto the mattress. "I don't. But we're friends, right?"

She placed a knee on the bed and leaned forward to kiss his chest. "Friends with benefits."

Kahlia was off the bed and out the door before he could reply, hopping down the stairs and trying to remember where she'd left her sandals.

In all honesty, she had noticed things about Dorian that had made her apprehensive to take bigger steps with him. For one, she'd noted the repetitive patterns he'd go through. He had a thing for even numbers, a specific order to everything he did. The times they'd cooked together, she noted that he would follow the same steps of preparation every time.

She'd had her suspicions about him the first time she entered his home, but over time, the markers stood out more and more. The only thing he seemed completely unbridled with was sex. There wasn't a rhyme or reason to anything they did when they were in the heat of passion, only lust and pleasure.

It's not that Kahlia had a problem with anything about him, but she kept her distance to avoid making him uncomfortable or feel like she was invading his space. She really liked Dorian; he was sincere and he made her laugh a lot. The last thing she wanted was to ruin what they had by overstepping boundaries they hadn't even established yet.

Not to mention he was the best lay of her life, but that part could be kept secret forever.

When she arrived by her apartment to shower and change, she found a letter sticking out between the door and the doorframe. She took it as she opened the door and set it on the counter, deciding she'd read it after she left the shower.

She pulled her clothes off and tossed them into the hamper in the corner. Her hair tie had completely given up on her now, and the mass of curls hung around her shoulders and down her back in a dark, voluminous mess.

She loved her hair. She loved the volume, the texture and everything that came with it, but she would be the first to admit that caring for it was nothing short of a nightmare. She'd spent years growing her hair out, never going beyond the necessary trim and consistently resorting to protective styles or treatments to ensure that it was kept healthy, and now that it was at her waist, she often debated chopping off the inches.