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When a surprisingly feminine smell caught my senses after the cash passed hands, I twitched my nose. Lifting the twenties to my nostrils, I inhaled deeply.
Mason’s brows burrowed as he sent me a perplexed frown.
I blushed. “Sorry. I just…They smell like…Is that…Chanel No. 5?”
As his face blanched of color, I knew immediately. Everything Eva had said about him was absolutely true. Rich women paid him for sex. My skin prickled with a chilling awareness, realizing exactly what kind of things he’d done to earn this cash.
His jaw bulged. “I wouldn’t know,” he bit out from between clenched teeth. “I don’t ask.”
I wanted to drop the tainted, illegally gained funds. But holy guacamole. I was standing in the doorway of a steamy bathroom, staring at an honest-to-God gigolo who was wet and naked and covered by nothing but a bath towel. This was so going in the Christmas letter I was going to write to all my girlfriends.
The whole situation must’ve affected me way more than I realized, because without planning
what I was going to say, I blurted, “What do you ask, then?”
He shrugged and studied me with a mocking kind of insolence. “Not much. My clients aren’t exactly the shy type. They tell me what they want and typically don’t leave a lot of room for questions.”
My mouth fell open.
Oh. My. God.
“Oh, wow. So you’re actually admitting you’re a…a…”
He straightened pulling back slightly. “What? Haven’t you heard the rumors? As tight as you appeared to be with Eva Mercer on campus the other day, I would’ve assumed she’d told you every dirty detail about me by now.”
I sputtered and flushed hard. “I…Yeah…I mean, she told me some crazy gossip, but…I’m not sure if I believed any of it.”
He didn’t confirm or deny. He just watched me, waiting for my next move.
I figured people had two distinct responses to him: They either got as far away from him as feasibly possible or they moved closer in an effort to find out just how good he was at his job.
I did neither.
“Does your mom know?” I asked, rooted to the spot.
Dawn seemed way too nice—and moral—to allow her son to do such a thing.
He glanced away, and I once again caught a glimpse of the regret I’d seen on his face when I’d first spotted him in the bathroom. “I have a feeling she suspects.”
Whoa. This was big. This was so big. “This is just…” I shook my head, not sure what to say. “Yeah.”
Poor Dawn. She seemed so nice. If I were her and knew my twenty-year-old son was selling his body for sex, I’d—well, I wasn’t too certain what I’d do. It was obvious they could use more money, but this seemed kind of extreme.
I settled him with a probing stare. “Doesn’t it bother you that she knows—”
“No, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” he snapped with a glare. “Jesus. How do you think I feel about her knowing?”
All righty, then.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but he shook his head. “No. No more. The question and answer portion of this evening is over. You have your babysitting money, and I’m home to stay with Sarah. You can go.”
“I…” Realizing enough was enough, I nodded. “Okay.”
Ducking my head, I turned away, barely pausing to collect my things before I hurried from the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, I felt craptacular as I slunk across campus, lugging my breakfast I’d stopped along the way to buy. Wallowing in my solitude, I was glad I wouldn’t see Eva in any of my classes today, because I probably would’ve been all bitchy and crabby to her.
