Page 11 of Mastered By Lust

I look around. We’re on a busy side street right off Caro. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I want you to think about this, though. Smooth Riff has been our dream for too long to let it go. Maybe you’re just alittleworried about alittletrouble over somelittlegirl.”

He’s deflecting, but he isn’t wrong, either.

* * *

Gage

My days used to be predictable. Wake. Work out. Eat. Scribble some poetry. Go to the office. Watch people have sex. Do administrative tasks. Go home. Masturbate. Sleep.

But now I’ve invited Leah into my apartment and into my life. Everything is more complicated. Dragging myself out of my bed and away from her soft, sleepy body is so difficult, I’m nearly panting with the effort.

Leah shows up in my workout room when I’m running on the treadmill. She’s wearing a pair of flannel pants and a thin, long-sleeved shirt. She gazes at my naked torso, an appreciative gleam in her eyes.

A part of me wants to throw on a shirt, but I stifle the inclination. Leah’s gaze is soft. Safe.

Pointing around the room, I say, “You’re welcome to use anything here. I’ll be off the treadmill in a few minutes if you want to do some running.”

“I’ve never been in a home with a private gym.” She walks up to the punching bag and gives it an experimental shove. When it swings back at her, she puts her hand up in a fist and hits it. “Ow.”

I chuckle. “If there’s anything you don’t know how to use, I’m happy to help you with it.”

“I’m good for now, but thanks.”

“Breakfast?” I ask.

“I’ll forage, if that’s okay.”

“Anything you want, it’s yours, little girl.” I should stop calling her this in casual conversation. But I can’t seem to help myself, and she doesn’t seem to mind.

With a playful wink, she says, “Thank you, Sir,” and traipses out of the room.

I groan because it’s hard to run with an erection. My arousal is soon doused, though, with an incoming call. Todd Evanston.

I ignore it. He can leave a message.

He calls a second time.

I will have no peace if I ignore him, will I? I answer.

“I even called instead of texting,” he says by way of greeting. “The least you could do is pick up the first time.”

“I’m busy.” I slow my run to a brisk walk. “What’s going on?”

“Javi’s funeral. We’re trying to set a date.”

“Okay.” I wonder what that has to do with me, if anything.

“If it’s Saturday, can you make it?”

It’s the last thing I want to do. My absence would be noted, however. Not only by my former castmates, but by any media invited. Javi’s career took off afterAcademy of Ghosts. He was a popular celebrity who formed countless connections. His funeral will be a circus. And the so-called “rivalry” between us means I’ll be scrutinized. Yes, almost two decades later.

“Gage,” Todd says.

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Are you even sad, though?”

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