Sugar

45

chapter forty five
florence thompson
song: love is fire - freya ridings

After about an hour of us cooling down, I found myself sitting on the couch with Vincent, legs tucked up underneath me as we talked. He had a glass of some alcoholic beverage in his hands, swishing it around as he stared at the coffee table, absentmindedly.

"Are you and Julia a thing?" I asked, voice quite meek as I watched him closely. Instead of getting angry this time, he simply sighed, taking a sip of his drink before setting it on his thigh, hand still gripping the glass.

"Define a thing," he sighed, running a hand through his wayward hair.

I gnawed the inside of my lip, gaze dancing over his side profile before he turned to face me, giving me a full view of his handsome features. His eyes locked on my own, waiting for me to answer, which I did so hesitantly.

"Is she a sugar...baby?" I said the word with a fair amount of distaste since the title admittedly freaked me out a little bit.

He nodded.

"Yeah, she's in a financial agreement, just like you," he admitted, leaning forward and placing his glass onto the coffee table before turning to face me more, just like I was him, one leg bent on the couch and an elbow resting on the back of it, hand supporting his head.

"Just like me?" I repeated, slightly surprised at this.

"Well," he bobbed his head from side to side. "Not exactly like you. We have intercourse and spend time together, not strictly the latter," he corrected himself, immediately making my eyes go wide.

I felt my cheks ignite quickly, my heart taking note and deciding to thump harshly in my chest. I felt my gaze fall away from his face and down to the couch between us.

"Well then..." Was the only stupid remark that my brain could seem to come up with.

"You don't have to be ashamed, Florence," he commented, reaching out and tilting my face up for the millionth time tonight, but the way his touch ignited my skin could feel like the first over and over again. "I don't mind our arrangement, in fact, I'm quite fond of it."

I smiled softly, a smile that surely didn't reach my eyes.

"Have you ever been in a committed relationship, Vincent?" I asked boldly, deciding to throw all caution to the wind and just ask him the things I'd been meaning to, or at least wanting to, for a while.

He seemed taken aback for a moment before regathering himself.

"Yeah, a few years ago. I figured out that I'm just not built for strict commitment to one person, it's just not my thing," he answered, shrugging as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear before his hand fell and he placed it comfortably on my thigh.

I nodded, listening and analyzing his words even though they slightly stung.

"Would you never?" I asked hesitantly, watching him as he went over the question in his mind.

"I don't think so, Florence," he concluded after some time, saying it in such a way that I knew he knew why I'd asked the question.

I nodded, drawing my lip in between my teeth and glancing back down to the couch that we were sat on.

"I wish I could," he uttered, reaching forward and grasping my thighs, pulling me closer to him in one fluid motion, my leg falling over his that was next to the couch.

I looked up abruptly to his face which was now softened as his hands still comfortably grasped my exposed thighs since I was currently in a dress. Definitely not the most "ladylike" position to be in at the moment.