Page 40 of Mastered By Lust

“It does. This is our dream, Dmitri.” He scoots his barstool closer to mine and leans in. “This is the perfect moment. Don’t waste it, okay? I’ve been looking forward to this for years.”

“I don’t think it’s the perfect moment.”

“Well, I do. Granddad says he’s in. He knows exactly what to do, how to set up the business aspects. He’s hooking us up with a friend who specializes in this stuff.” Patrick holds out his phone so I can see a name and phone number. “This guy.”

I recognize the name. That guy is a crook. I know it. Patrick knows it. I’m pretty sure the police know it—they just haven’t been able to pin anything on him.

I have to get Patrick to understand how serious I am. “I texted you my position the other day. If Granddad is in, then I’m out.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. So it isn’t exactly a hundred percent like you envisioned. That doesn’t mean you can take your toys and go home. Come on, Granddad is family. He wants to help. Look.” Patrick taps his phone and shows me some paperwork, but I don’t bother reading it. “He already bought the building and he’s urging the tenants to leave. This is our chance.”

He bought the building? When I spoke to him and Patrick at Abdul’s, Granddad was talking about a loan.

This is how it is with my family. A small favor turns into a tangled web.

“No.” I pound my half-full pint glass on the bar and stand up. “That’s his foothold into the Salding district. Do the club with Granddad, because I’m fuckingout.”

I start to walk away.

Patrick grabs my arm. “Wait, Dmitri?—”

“No.” I shrug out of his hold and stalk out of the bar. A group of coeds block the exit, but they part as I approach. They probably sense that I’m done taking shit. I’m goddamn tired of Patrick. I’m goddamn tired of Granddad.

I’m goddamn tired of missing Leah.

* * *

Leah

The auction is today. I wake up to a text from Dmitri.

Can we talk?

I look at the clock. Eight a.m. on a Saturday. Gage is most likely in the exercise room. Out of earshot. It’s not that I want to hide the phone call from him—I want to hide the awkwardness, the conflict.

Tugging the blankets around me, I call Dmitri.

“Leah.” His voice is warm and low.

I’m immediately transported back to that night on his couch when we…

My body gives a throb of need. “Hey. What do you want to talk about?”

“Are you doing the auction tonight?”

“Dmitri.” That’s none of his business. My lust is doused, replaced by frustration. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, is that it?”

“Sorry, no. Fuck, I’m fucking this up. I’m just worried.”

Footsteps sound down the hall.

He sounds so lost and quiet, I take pity on him and ask, “What are you worried about?”

“You, I guess. I want us…”

“What?” I ask, trying to hurry him up.

Gage appears in the doorway. He’s shirtless and magnificent. His facial hair has grown back, as he promised it would. He cocks his head, eyes on my phone and a curious expression on his face.

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