Page 13 of Mastered By Lust

I’m acting like a silly teenager with a crush.

Scoffing at my own behavior, I make my way to the garage, unlatch the deadbolt, and step inside. I flip the switch on the wall to illuminate the finicky fluorescent lights.

Now, which box of books isWuthering Heightshiding in? Dmitri put all the book boxes to one side of the garage, close to the house door. It’s like he knew I would want to get at these first. I go through two boxes before I find the Brontë book.

Jane Austen’sEmmais right beneath it, so I grab that, too.Wuthering Heightsis dreadfully angsty. I’ll need a chaser of Austen once I’m through with my re-read.

Books in hand, I leave the garage, locking up behind me.

When I turn to go back down the hall past Dmitri’s room, a tall, lanky form is standing in the hallway right next to me.

I shriek and swing out with my heavy bag.

“Hey, Leah, it’s me!” The guy holds up his arms. He has close-cropped light brown hair, the beginnings of a goatee, and vibrant blue eyes. But one of those eyes is swollen and bruised.

Despite his shiner, I recognize him.

I pull back my bag mid-swing and laugh. “Patrick, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, sorry. I was coming by to see if Dmitri wants to go for a run. He didn’t answer and the door was unlocked, so I came in.”

“He’s not here.” My heart is still trying to slow down. “Hell, that was scary.”

“No kidding. I nearly got maimed by a—you call this thing a purse? It’s more like a bludgeon.”

“That’s how I was going to use it. In self-defense, creeper. Is that how you got your black eye? Sneaking up on unsuspecting women?”

He laughs. “I forgot how funny you are. And no, I had a little dust-up with a punk in Salding.” He peers more closely at my face. “Looks like we match. What happened to you?”

“I had a dust-up of my own.” I’m not wearing make-up to hide my bruises. I don’t mind not sharing details, because he didn’t either. And I still need to talk to Danica. Shit. I’ll text her today, see if we can grab coffee.

“Well, if Dmitri isn’t here,” Patrick says, “doyouwant to go for a run?”

I look around. “I see no fires, no rampaging grizzly bears, and no bookstore sales. Therefore, I have no reason to run, sorry.”

“That’s fair. I guess I’ll head out. You have a key to this place?”

“Temporarily.” I walk with him to the living room, key clutched in my hand. “In fact, I should leave this here.”

Because what am I doing with Dmitri’s key? I have no claim on him. But I’m walking into his bedroom and sniffing his pillow like some kind of stalker. Picking up his dirty laundry and dropping it in the hamper for him like a bang-maid.

I drop the key on the coffee table. It winks at me, daring me to reconsider.

Nope. I need to cut ties.

We step outside. I make sure the door is locked from the inside, locking us out of the house.

“Why did you have a key?” Patrick asks.

“I had to stay here for a bit after I broke up with Mick.” Not that it’s any of his business. Still, he’s Dmitri’s cousin, so I understand his curiosity.

“Huh. Okay, see you later, Leah.” He takes off at a jog.

It’s hard to believe he and Dmitri are related, sometimes. Patrick is lanky whereas Dmitri is broad. Even his face is narrower, and it looks even thinner with the goatee he’s growing.

As if he senses me watching him, he turns around and jogs backward, offering me a wave.

I wave back, then start toward my car.

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