An Extra Pump of Sugar

Chapter 14

"It was amazing, Rivas," Baker sighed dreamily, her voice muffled by passing cars as she made her way to class. "They had so many tips."

I sat in my favorite button-tufted seat with my legs folded comfortably beneath me. A hefty textbook lay in my lap, desecrated with margin notes and highlighter streaks, and a 16-ounce coffee cup leaned against my thigh. A few feet away, the fireplace fed me the most pleasurable heat, fogging up the old windows around me and blocking the view of a hazardous, icy parking lot.

"I'm really happy to hear that, B," I said, tucking my phone between my ear and shoulder so I could turn to the next page of my book. "Did you get all your questions answered?"

Baker had just attended a USAC event with students from previous study abroad programs, including the University of Pau. I tried my best to sound enthusiastic and supportive of her endeavor—because I was genuinely happy for her—but it was difficult to keep my selfish thoughts at bay. The last thing I wanted was for her to detect a splash of resentment or jealousy on my tongue. I refused to taint her excitement.

"Yeah, mostly. Except all the other students were interested in academia and travel destinations, and I was the only one asking about the night life and where to find the best bars. They all think I'm an alcoholic now."

"Are you not?"

"Only on the weekends."

I snorted and brushed gazes with Theo from across the shop. He manned the entire coffee bar this afternoon, smiling at me every few minutes and occasionally walking by to clean off tables or deliver pastries to customers.

Since we started hooking up, he'd stopped writing insults on my cup sleeves, choosing to torture me with extremely dirty and provocative comments instead. Determined to get a rise out of me, erotic or otherwise.

"Anyway. How's your boy toy?"

"Honestly...pretty great. We've been meeting up every Friday night, and as much as it pains me to admit it, the whole thing has been really fun." We always treated ourselves to good food and entertainment, and of course, marathons of stimulating sex. And the best part was, I never left his house feeling used or hollow. Theo was an expert at aftercare, and he never failed to brew me a giant cup of coffee in the morning—with extra sugar and cream, exactly how I liked it.

I spent all week looking forward to the following weekend, and the sparse texts we exchanged between our meetups had my stomach doing backflips.

"Wow. I can't believe you've actually found yourself a fuck buddy, Mona. That's crazier than the killer clown attacks of '16. Or a global pandemic. Or a bunch of maniacs storming the capitol building." She stopped to swear at something, then kept walking. "Sometimes I think the world ended in 2012, and we've all just been living in purgatory, you know? How else do you explain the government confirming the existence of aliens? Or murder hornets? You remember those?" I could picture her shaking her head at the mystery of it all. "Something is wrong with the universe, I'm telling ya."

"It's absolutely crazy," I agreed, amused by my friend's chaotic mind. "You were right, though. This fling has been...exactly what I needed. So, thanks for the nudge."

I heard her smiling through her next words. "Yeah, well, that's what ace women were born to do. Advise people on their sexual habits and love affairs." She paused. "Just remember to keep the mawkish couple-y stuff out of it. That's how you ruin a good fling."

I took a long, thoughtful sip of coffee. "Yeah, I'm way ahead of you."

Theo and I had already begun drawing boundaries for anything that felt too intimate or romantic for a 'peers with privileges' dynamic. So far, we'd established that I could not, under any circumstances, softly scratch his back, wrists, or biceps during our post-sex cuddle. He said Alyssa used to do that, and it was a surefire way to make him fall in love with me.