Conditional Love

Chapter 5

Another chapter! Thank you for all your amazing support. You guys are amazing.

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**| Sang's POV |**

I've been staring at the apples for the last five minutes. The problem isn't that there aren't any good apples, they all look fine, nice and red, no bruises. I'm not even seeing the apples despite my eyes staring at them. No, my brain is off in another daydream for the hundredth time today.

I shift and my lips curl up into a satisfied smile as I feel the delicious soreness between my legs. And then my brain goes back into the gutter, remembering the way my body was touched last night and very early this morning. I shiver as I remember his fingers and lips trailing across my skin. The way his tongue ring brought out new sensations.

Oh, that man was good. Too good.

I shake my head and let out a huff of breath, focusing back on the apples. I need to pick a couple. Before I lose to my thoughts again, I grab three of them and stuff them into a clear plastic bag, twisting the bag and making a knot before putting the fruit into the cart and moving on.

Grocery shopping shouldn't take so long and yet I've already been in the store for over an hour. I couldn't get over that one-night stand. I don't even know his name and yet he's consuming my thoughts.

Meanie.

Yes, he's definitely a meanie. A very delicious one.

I lick my lips, thinking of exactly how he tasted when I had my lips wrapped around his dick. The look in his eyes, the noises he made, the feeling of exhilaration knowing I was the one to make him fall apart. Warmth pools deep in my stomach and I release a content sigh.

And then frown.

Content? I'm content? Is this what that feels like? I've never felt it before, it's new and different, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I search deep within me and my frown deepens.

I don't even feel the void that tries to consume me each day. It's gone. I don't feel like Empty Sang right now. I haven't felt like her since the mind blowing sex with the stranger. Whatever he did filled that void up.

Letting out a slow breath as an attempt to center myself, I grab an orange and move on towards the vegetables, forcing myself to focus on a recipe.

Something. Anything but Friday night and how that has seemed to have shifted something inside of me. I'm not ready to analyze whatever is going on with me.

What do I have a craving for?

Pasta. Yes, pasta. Not a certain appendage hanging from between a certain man's leg.

What do I need?

Broccoli florets, pasta, and Parmesan cheese. Basic, something simple. Not the attentive touch on my body from a certain man.

I already have the olive oil, salt, and pepper. The basic seasonings needed to add flavors. Not like the flavor of a certain aroused man.

Shoot, this is not working.

Broccoli, pasta, Parmesan cheese.

Broccoli, pasta, Parmesan cheese.

I repeat it over and over in my head, trying to keep my thoughts clear of everything and everyone.

I glance around the grocery store and spot the broccoli and go over, finding what I need. I keep silently listing the ingredients over and over again as an attempt to stay on task and it seems to work as I go through the checkout and go out the door. I carry the two reusable bags and walk back to my apartment.