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I yanked my neck gaiter down and brought her in for a kiss.
“Say my name again,” I said, brushing my lips against hers.
“You need to leave,” she replied, breath hitching as Prickly Vera took a backseat and Pliant Vera softened in my arms. I cupped her ass, drawing her closer until there was no space left between us—her demands for me to leave disappeared as the kiss intensified. The exchange was ravenous, all heat and urgency, but despite her objection to my presence, Vera set the pace. Her fingers dug into my hip, anchoring me in place like she’d decided I wasn’t going anywhere. I followed her lead, breathless and on the tipping point of dragging her somewhere we wouldn’t be charged for public indecency.
Suddenly, she broke the kiss. It wasn’t gentle. It was like she’d remembered something urgent mid-breath.
“Let’s go. I need to get to my next class soon. Lunch is on me,” Vera said before ducking out of our hideaway.
Her earlier words came rushing back after she left.
I am beyond down bad for my sugar baby.
***
“This is fucking unbelievable,” I muttered, following Vera through the gleaming state-of-the-art dining hall.
“Are you jealous?” she taunted, sliding her dining card into her wallet before tucking it back into her backpack.
“Hell yeah, I’m jealous. Is that a ramen bar?” I asked in disbelief, pointing to a station where pots of simmering broth were displayed.
“It is. You pick your broth, noodles, proteins, and toppings. There’s even a soft-boiled egg station.”
“No wonder the tuition is what it is. Y’all are eating better than half the NHL.”
She gave a nonchalant shrug and said, “Cognitive performance doesn’t run on vending machine snacks. This is literally brain food.”
“Cognitive performance doesn’t run on vending machine snacks,” I mimicked under my breath. It was at that moment that I realized my girl had hearing like an owl. Her head snapped back at me, and she glowered before shoving a stainless-steel tray at me.
“And to think I planned on having a surprise for you at your condo after the game,” she commented with a coy smile. I perked up.
“A surprise?” I asked, following her to the salad bar that had every topping imaginable.
“That’s right,” she said airily. “But now I don’t know if you deserve it—breaking my bed, stalking, and mocking me? What’s next?”
“First of all, you broke the bed,” I replied, lying through my teeth.
“Debatable,” she replied, heading to an international cuisine station where a chef was filleting tuna for sashimi. She skipped the sushi and started preparing a Mediterranean bowl. “When should I expect my new bed to be delivered?”
“I’m not buying you a new bed when I’ve already offered you a viable solution.”
She scoffed.
“Sleeping at your place every night is not what I call a ‘viable solution.’”
“It is. You’re just difficult. Tell me more about this surprise you have planned.”
“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” she said, moving down the line.
“Are you coming to the game?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because my guitar is arriving today, and delivery windows are rarely accurate. I also need to work out—something I’ve failed to do since meeting you.”
I smirked.
