Page 66 of Rust

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Page 66 of Rust

Rust winced and turned his head away, knowing it was all true.

“No,” he grumbled, “secrets like, you’re not actually enrolled in school anymore.”

“Really? That’s funny, because a week ago, I asked you if you thought I should tell my dad. And you said it was fine to wait to tell him, as long as I support myself financially. Which Ido, by the way.”

He prowled closer. “So tell me. Howdoyou support yourself financially, Isabelle?”

Something about his tone I didn’t like. He was walking me into a trap.

“By waiting tables, right?” he asked, prodding further. “Youdowork at that restaurant, don’t you?”

My eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at, Rust?”

“I know about your OnlyFans,” he said, folding his arms.

Shit.My heart froze. If Rust knew, did my dad know, too?

“Okay.” I drew a measured breath and tried to stay calm. “So how’d you find it?”

“Because you put pictures of my houseon the internet!” He waved his hands, gesturing at the walls around us. “This ismyhouse, by the way, and I never gave you permission to post pictures of it.”

I tutted. “The pictures I post are ofme,not your house.”

“My house is in the pictures, though, isn’t it? You took pictures in the bedroom, by the pool, in the atrium, the kitchen—on and on.”

I shrugged. “So? I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Itisa big deal to me. I don’t want pictures of my house on the internet at all. I’m a public figure, Isabelle. There are weirdos out there.”

I could relate to that, at least. I dropped the bratty attitude and apologized. “You’re right. I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry, Rust. That was shitty and I shouldn’t have done that. I just didn’t think it’d matter because no one could possibly find out it was your house.”

“But theydidfind out. And that’s the point. Maybe you don’t realize it yet, but the world’s a really small place. All it takes is one person who knows me, one Cale Cotton, to stumble onto your page.”

My eyebrow arched. “Cale Cotton?”

“Cale is a ‘fan’ of yours, apparently. That’s how I found your page. He recognized my house in your photos and showed me.”

I didn’t know what to make of that, other than what Rust just said—it was crazy how small the world was. It was pretty embarrassing that’s how Rust found out, but I was also a little flattered that I could count a professional hockey player as one of my fans.

All I could say was, “Whoa. That’s, um, weird.”

“By the way, Cale wasthis close”—he pinched at a sliver of air between his thumb and forefinger—“to telling me about your page right in front of your dad. Lucky for you, that was the precise moment your dad decided to get up and grab another round of drinks.”

“Wait, so Daddoesn’tknow?” I asked with bated breath.

Rust shook his head, and I exhaled a gust of relief,phew!

“Thank God. Close call,” I said.

Rust didn’t seem nearly as relieved as I was; actually, he seemed bothered that I was relieved. “Close call? Yeah, and guess what—that wasn’t the only close call you survived, either.”

“Jeez. Whatelsehappened that night?”

He stared me down. “Isabelle,Ialmost told Johnny about your OnlyFans.”

My jaw unhinged. I felt betrayed Rust would eventhinkof doing that. “Why wouldyoutell him?!”

“Because your dad is my best friend. I’ve known Johnny a lot longer than I’ve known you. And he’s worried sick about you. He wants to know how you’re doing. Why do you think he wanted you to watch Minka so bad?”




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