Page 2 of Mastered By Lust

“Sis, he’s a kid in this season,” Dmitri says. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not talking about him here as a teenager. Ew.” Danica shakes her head. “I’m talking about the hottie he grows into. He was in the news alotwhen he was in his, what, early twenties? Wasn’t there some sex tape or something?”

I stand up. I have to get out of here. “If thereisa sex tape, I’m never looking for it.”

“Neither will I,” Danica says. “There’s a lot of shit I’ll watch on the internet, but peoples’ private bedroom activities is not among it. Hey, where are you going?”

“Home. I have some tutoring lesson plans to set up, and an early day tomorrow.”

She squints at me. “You don’t have students on Monday mornings.”

“I have to go apartment hunting.” Because no way can I stay with Gage after this giant revelation. What was I thinking? He’s told me nothing about himself.

Danica accepts my excuses. I wave goodbye to Dmitri. I don’t know if Danica thinks I’m still staying with him or not. Luckily, it hasn’t come up. By the time it does, I hope to have somewhere else to stay.

My bruised face aches like nothing else. Or maybe that’s just a headache because I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

I drive back to Gage’s building, stewing in my bitter thoughts.

One thing is for sure: I never knew Gage Jannik.

The elevator takes me up to his penthouse. I punch in the numbers on his keypad to let myself in.

“Leah.” He rises from one of the black couches in the large, open living room and walks toward me. “How was movie night?”

“Illuminating.”

“Really?” He cocks an intrigued eyebrow. “Tell me about it.”

“Maybe later.”Maybe never.

I brush past him. I go straight to the guest room and start packing. There isn’t much out of my bag, yet. A couple of clothing items, my toiletries case.

Gage follows me in. “What are you doing, Leah?”

“What does it look like?” I can’t fit everything into the bag. Did my things expand since yesterday?

“It looks like you’re packing.”

“Yep. If I can get this fucking hoodie into this fucking bag.”

“Hey.” He lowers his voice to that stern tone I like so much. “How about you talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, instead of running away with an attitude?”

I throw my hoodie onto the bed next to my bag. “Is it worse to run away, or to hide a big-ass secret?”

Gage goes very still. Then, as if he needs something to do, he picks up my hoodie and folds it. “Talk to me, Leah. What big secret do you think I’m hiding from you?”

He sounds so reasonable, so calm. When I’m here cringing and thinking it’s time to run.

It hits me, then. I’m all primed to get yelled at, because whenever I voiced to Mick I was unhappy, he blamed it on me. Usually with shouting and name-calling thrown in for good measure. I would accept his groveling apologies afterward, but our arguments were toxic.

So of course now my defenses are up, my adrenaline’s pumping, and I’m shaking because I think we’re going to argue and Gage is going to yell.

But Gage isn’t Mick.

“Leah?” He doesn’t touch me, but the sound of my name in his mouth has the same effect as a calming hand on my shoulder.

I meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really are?”

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