Page 13 of Sugar Baby

The idea holds little appeal.

I need a resolution on this situation first.

Okay, time to set a boundary. If I don’t have a reply from them, either way, by the time I go to bed tonight, I’ll remove my interest from their invitation. Then they won’t have access to me anymore.

Feeling moderately more in control of the situation, I yank the plug out and start drying everything. Just as I pick up the last of the coffee mugs, I hear Oakley’s bedroom door open.

“Hey, sorry about that,” she offers as she comes into the kitchen, carrying her dirty dishes.

I gesture with the towel. “No worries. Sugar baby duties come first.”

She grins. “Totally. Anyway, want to go for a walk on campus? We can check things out and see what’s what before the semester starts next week. We’ve got today until all the other students start arriving on the weekend.”

“Sounds good,” I reply, happy to have found my distraction. “Can we swing past Alderidge Hall? I want to find a good study spot, and the freshman forums all say that Alderidge has some of the best rooms.”

Oakley nods, her blonde locks swaying with the motion. “We must have been reading the same forums. Let me go get ready, and I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes.”

She’s gone in a blink, disappearing back into her room, and I’m left with her dirty dishes. I stare at them, trying to decide ifleaving them in the sink is too passive aggressive. The last thing I want is to let her get away with shit like this after only having lived together for a few days.

If there is one thing I have learned, it’s that once someone gets something from you one time, they will expect it for the rest of their lives.

Deciding to rinse them, so they aren’t a pain in the ass later, I leave them sitting mostly dirty in the sink. It’s the thought that counts, right? Hopefully, it’ll appear that way.

My music goes quiet, and then there is a ding from the table.

I grit my teeth and force myself not to pounce. Nope. Instead, I gently fold the towel and hang it from the oven handle. Only then do I calmly walk over to the phone.

SugarLife.

Brat4Us has sent you a new message.

With a deep breath, I tap the notification, and the app opens up into the message thread.

Brat4Us:We’re sorry, Emmy.

My stomach sinks. Well, that’s that, I guess. I hover my finger over the X to close the message thread, but another message appears, and my heart leaps into my throat.

Brat4Us:You’re right, we don’t know you. Our only excuse is that, even though we have only exchanged a handful of messages, we are all feeling a small amount of protectiveness toward you. We would like to continue talking with you, if you are willing. Trust is a hard thing to manage, but we are willing to give it a try, as long as you promise to tell us if things become uncomfortable or you don’t like what is happening.

Brat4Us:We can’t promise not to show our concern when we think you might be doing something that is not in yourbest interests, but we’ll do our best to let you make your own decisions. Unless you want us to do that for you. We tend to care for our baby girls if they allow us to.

My chest feels tight and I’m so confused.

Care for their baby girls?

But . . . isn’t this whole thing just an exchange of their “gift” for a few hours of my time while I call them Daddy and they use my body however they want? Why would they need to care for baby girls?

And besides, their invitation saidone night only. That’s a hit-it-and-quit-it type situation. No feelings need get involved.

Maybe . . .

Maybe if I make this thing between us happen soon, like tonight, we can leave the emotional shit for someone else to deal with. They can have their night, and I can get my cash. Then we can all go our separate ways.

I mull the thought over for a minute, my screen going dark as I take the time to truly think about it all, but my mind keeps getting stuck on what it will be like to have ten thousand dollars in my bank account.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had four digits in my bank account before, let alone five. In fact, I’m confident I’ve never had three.

Am I really going to let the fact that they may, potentially, care about me stop me from taking their money?