Page 66 of Mastered By Desire
Dmitri shoots me a glance, then looks back at the road. “You can ask me a favor, Leah. I’m still your friend.”
Why does the word “friend” sound so sour? We really did fuck things up by fucking each other.
Sex with him was so amazing, I thought it would be a good thing.
I was wrong.
“Can I leave most of my stuff at your place, until I find an apartment?”
“Of course.”
He doesn’t sound happy about it, but at least he isn’t arguing with me anymore.
I glance at him, taking advantage of the fact he’s driving and can’t focus on my face. “Thanks.”
He’s quiet a moment. “Where will you go?”
“I found a room at the Stays.” It’s not the best solution. It’ll suck up money fast. But if I do the auction next month, more money will come in. Plus, I’m still getting paid for tutoring.
And Iwillfind an apartment soon. If I repeat it enough times to myself, that’ll make it happen, right?
But it’s the middle of the semester. Nobody is looking for a new roommate in this college city.
“You don’t have to leave my place.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I don’t want you to.”
“What’s the phrase? Guests are like fish and they stink after three days. It’s been a lot more than three days, Dmitri. Almost two weeks. It’s time for me to find a permanent solution. But thanks for the offer and for letting me stay so long.”
“A hotel isn’t a ‘permanent solution.’”
“But it isn’t taking up your couch, cramping your style.”
“You’re not cramping shit, Leah.”
I don’t respond. I can’t keep doing this. He doesn’t want me, but he’s mad when I make plans with Gage. I want him—I want them both. And it hurts all the time.
He frowns as we pull up to his driveway. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this.”
Because I’m hurt. Because I hate that he walked off after sex, saying we shouldn’t do it anymore. Because it’s killing me to be around him and not beg for his touch, for his attention.
My car will be ready, with new tires, by the end of the day. And then I’m out of here.
Gage
I’m in my penthouse, waiting with my phone on the coffee tablein front of me. Leah might call for a ride to the police station, and I don’t want to miss it.
But when my phone rings, it isn’t Leah calling. It’s Claudia.
Before I can sayhello, she’s already speaking. “Someone just tried to kill me, Gage, I swear. I’m so fucking scared right now, I’m literally shaking.”
This isn’t the first time she’s made the claim. If she’s feeling low already, and someone looks at her in an odd manner, it’s as good as a threat.
“You don’t believe me,” she says because I haven’t said anything.
“I believe you,” I say quickly. Rather, I believeshe believessomeone tried to kill her. However, her reality doesn’t always match up with that of the people around her.
“They swervedtowardme while I was walking up Wilshire.”
“Claudia.” I keep my voice careful. None of the sternness she bristles against. “Why would anyone want to kill you? You have no enemies.”