Chapter 18

Leah

Danica doesn’t meet my eyes. “Gage is still waiting.”

“Right.” I clear my throat and stand up, feeling wobbly on my feet. “Danica, can we talk?”

She shakes her head. “I, uh, I need to check in with my parents. If they’ll even talk to me.”

“Dad will,” Dmitri says. “Mom’s probably still mad, though.”

Danica doesn’t respond to him.

“Just for two minutes?” I shove at Dmitri until he gets the hint.

He stands and steps past Danica. I think I hear him say, “Be nice,” but I’m not sure.

As soon as he’s out of the room, I say, “I’m sorry,” at the same time Danica says, “Why?”

We start talking at the same time again. Finally, I make a show of covering my mouth with my hand.

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t talk to me.” Danica’s cheeks and neck are flushed, a sure sign she’s upset. But they’ve never looked like that because of me.

Feeling like absolute shit, I wait to make sure she’s ready for me to speak. “I was afraid you wouldn’t approve. I was afraid you’d be mad at me. I was being stupid, I guess. If I could go back, I’d do things differently.”

She sighs and presses the backs of her hands to her cheeks, trying to cool them. “I know I’m judgmental sometimes.”

I give her a look.

She laughs. “Okay, all the time. But I try not to judge you. If you want to be with Dmitri, well, great. Yeah, it could mess up our group dynamic, but we’d get over it, right?”

“Yeah. I’d like to hope we could.”

“I hope so, too, because I guess we’re already in it.” Her eyebrows go high on her forehead and she lowers her voice. “And speaking of group dynamics , Leah. Dmitri and Gage?”

I wince.

She winces, too. “Sorry. That was judgy. I’ll stop. If you’re happy, I’ll be happy, too. But…I’m really hurt that you didn’t talk to me.”

“I get it.” I mess with the hem of my T-shirt—Dmitri’s T-shirt. “I’d be upset, too. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are, and I appreciate that. But I need some time.” Her gray eyes are bright with moisture. She’s trying to keep herself from crying.

I’m an asshole. I should’ve trusted my best friend.

“Take all the time you need.” I fold my arms together, feeling cold and sad. “I’ll be ready whenever you want to talk.”

“Thanks.” She strides forward and gives me a gentle hug. “And as for last night? I’m so sorry for what Patrick did.”

I blink back tears. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this hug from her until she gave it to me. “Thanks. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember you punching him in the face. How’s your hand?”

“It hurts, but it’s worth it. I’d do it again a thousand times.” She holds it out and shows me her bruised knuckles. Gone is the look of betrayal on her face—now it’s replaced by a mixture of fury and pride.

I love my best friend.

I hope she can forgive me.

* * *

Gage

Dmitri’s sister leaves the hallway. Her eyes are wet with tears, but she smiles and gives me a little wave before hurrying out of the house.

This is a modest place, but homey. It feels much more lived in than my penthouse. It reminds me of my early childhood in the suburbs of Los Angeles, before acting lessons and joining the cast of Academy of Ghosts .

Dmitri and Leah come out next. She’s wearing an oversized pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt—they must be Dmitri’s clothes.

Dmitri stands behind her. She’s steady, but he looks as if he’s ready to catch her in his arms. A small smile plays on her lips as she glances over her shoulder at him. “Dmitri, you can relax. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He doesn’t take his eyes off her. Every one of his movements is calculated. He’s more in tune with her comfort and needs than he is with his own.

And whether she’s aware of it or not, Leah’s actions are calibrated to reassure him.

It’s the dance of lovers who have spent years learning about each other.

Looking at the two of them together is like staring too hard at an eclipse. It’s heartrending and beautiful, a marvel of the universe…and ultimately blinding and painful.

Perhaps Dmitri’s sister has been right to try to keep them apart. Their chemistry, the very rightness of them together, makes everything else seem wrong.

Including me.

* * *

Leah

Gage is quiet on the way back to his place, but he only lets go of my hand when he needs to shift gears. I envelop myself in his calm, collected manner. He’s a salve for everything I went through with Patrick, and a relief from the emotional storm of talking to both Dmitri and Danica.

When we reach his building, though, a crowd stands in front of it. Men and women with cameras held aloft. One man stands in front of a camerawoman and speaks into a microphone.

Gage’s calm demeanor transforms.

“Paparazzi,” he hisses.

“Are they here for you?”

He eases the car down a side street and into the far entrance of the underground parking garage. “I doubt it, but I suppose it is possible. Perhaps they caught wind of Claudia’s hospitalization and tracked me down for an interview.”

“Do we need to worry about privacy?” I ask.

“Always.” He gives a mirthless laugh. “They’re relentless. However, their attention span is short. Give them a few days. As long as they aren’t here because of a heavily publicized court case, they’ll eventually disperse.”

We park and take the elevator up. I’m grateful we don’t see anyone else in the building. I’m comfortable, but I feel sloppy in Dmitri’s sweats. Especially when Gage looks so put-together in slacks and a button-down shirt.

Once we’re safe inside the penthouse, Gage pauses, his arm locked around my shoulders. “What do you need, Leah? What can I do for you?”

“I think…a shower, first.”

He walks me to the bathroom and starts the water. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“I’ll fix some food. Something light.”

I’m not hungry, but I can tell he feels the need to do something, anything, so I give him a quick smile. “Thanks.”

He leaves me alone. I set my bag on the bathroom counter and start to pull off Dmitri’s shirt. But something is lighting up inside my bag, visible through the open zipper. My phone?

It’s on silent, but I’ve missed several calls and texts. The screen is a wall of stacked notifications. The battery is nearly dead, probably because of everything coming through.

Trembling, I unlock the phone to look.

Texts. Nonstop texts. Most come from unknown numbers. There must be fifty messages. A hundred. I only see the first ten or so words of each message as I scroll through the list, but I catch a few key phrases. Other woman . Gage Hawthorne . Dirty secret . Exclusive interview? From the San Esteban Tribune …

On and on. The words blur before my eyes until I land on Danica’s name. Her text came in a minute ago. Her message is three letters: WTF , followed by a link. I click on it blindly and get a pop-up with a new link.

Danica Montrose invited you to watch Nicola Johnson’s VideYou .

I click again, my brain whirling. Nicola Johnson?

The link takes me to a VideYou clip. The woman talking to the camera looks familiar, but it takes me a moment to place her. Because in Academy of Ghosts , she had blond hair. She played Trixie, the vampire who likes to stir shit up.

That’s right—Nicola Johnson.

She’s wearing a sweatshirt. I recognize the brand. The sweatshirt looks casual but it easily costs two hundred dollars or more. Her hair is light brown and falls over her shoulders in loose waves. Her hazel eyes are heavily made-up, but it’s evident she has been crying.

Nicola is talking, but the video is on mute. I restart the video and turn up the volume.

“After Javi’s funeral, Gage and I reconnected. Yes, even though several friends told me not to forgive him. Of course I forgave him. We have a special, enduring connection. One that I thought nothing would break. But it turns out, this whole time, there’s been someone else. What a cliche, right? Ha. The other woman.”

She pauses and dabs a tissue beneath her eyes.

I should turn this off. I should turn it off immediately and talk to Gage.

But I’m transfixed. Transfixed by her beauty, by her compelling tears, by the tale she’s weaving. I let the video play.

She holds up a picture of me, taken from my tutorial services site. In the image, I’m smiling, friendly, looking like the girl next door you’d hire to babysit and tutor your kid. I picked that photo on purpose. It made me look extra trustworthy.

“I know.” Nicola looks at the photo, then back into the camera. “I don’t get it, either. She’s a nobody. Just some…some girl. Younger, I guess. But you know what? The side-piece’s youth is fleeting. Her time with Gage is fleeting. He and I—we’re forever. And I’ll forgive him again, just like I did last time.”

She sniffs, and her breath catches on a sob.

I stare in disbelief. Gage is with her? Or he has been? I can’t believe that—in fact, I refuse to believe it. I know him, and this isn’t something he would do.

“I hope she enjoys him while she has him, because he always comes home to me.” She dabs her eyes again. “If I’m quiet for a few weeks, this is why. But I’ll be back soon, stronger than ever, with my man at my side.”

Shock, dread, disbelief, betrayal. They ricochet through my heart and mind, radioactive, poisoning everything they touch.

Nicola’s video starts again. “After Javi’s funeral, Gage and I reconnected. Yes, even though?—”

Gage knocks on the bathroom door. “Leah? Are you talking to someone?”

I mute my phone.

“Leah?”

“Just a second.” My voice sounds strange. Tight and full.

He must hear the emotion I’m trying to hide. “There are some accusations and rumors flying around. We need to talk.”

Talk about what, though? Nicola is showing a picture of me to her—I check the number—sixteen million followers. She’s calling me the “other woman.” The “side-piece.” The comments beneath her video are scathing.

What a whore.

Does she think she can compete? Gross. You have class. She’s just…trash.

They both suck. You can do better, Nic.

She’s ugly. I bet he has to cover her face when he fucks her.

She’s probably carrying every STD plus some they haven’t even invented yet .

Comment upon comment, slut-shaming me. Calling me ugly inside and out. Calling me a whore. Every single one of them enters my head in my stepfather’s voice.

I can’t do this.

The bathroom door opens. I never locked it. Didn’t think I’d need privacy.

Gage steps inside, takes one look at my face and my phone, and strides forward.

I take a step back.

He stops, mid-step. “Leah. Let’s talk about this.”

Tears fill my eyes. I blink them away, but one escapes. I wipe it angrily with the back of my hand. “I have to go.”

“At least let me give you a ride somewhere so you don’t have to talk to the paparazzi?—”

“I’ll call for a ride.” I wave my phone with its five percent battery remaining.

“Leah. Baby girl. You said you wouldn’t run.”

He’s right. I did say that. But I can’t stay here, I can’t do this. Whether or not he’s really with Nicola, whether or not I’m the side chick—it would never last, anyway. A celebrity? And me?

I can still hear Nicola’s voice. I don’t get it, either. She’s a nobody .

I shake my head, throw my bag over my shoulder.

“Leah, wait?—”

He doesn’t stop me when I hurry past him and out the bathroom door.

I pause in the hall, but I don’t look back. “I’m sorry.”

* * *

I hope you enjoyed Mastered by Lust ! The next book, Mastered by Love , continues Leah, Gage, and Dmitri’s sex-soaked saga.