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“And all you monogamous, relationship-conscious ladies stay as far away from me as possible for obvious reasons.”

I made a face. “That can’t be true. I’m sure plenty of—”

“Reese.” He stopped me mid-word by lifting his hand. “Honestly, would you date a…person of my occupation?”

I gulped. Hells to the no, I would not. “Good point.”

“Yeah.” He let out a long, lonely sigh. “Exactly.”

“Well, that’s just sad,” I finally decided. “You can’t date or have recreational…fun, or even fall in love just because you went to drastic measures to save your family?”

Yes, I was feeling bad for a gigolo. Sue me.

He shook his head as if stumped by my sympathy. “I was eighteen when I fell into this. At the time, I was too young and stupid to think about how it would impact my future…so.” He shrugged. “There you have it. Now I’m stuck.”

“No. You can’t be stuck. Surely, there’s something else you could do to make money. Something legal and…and…”

“Moral?” he guessed.

“Yes, and moral. And...”

He chuckled and touched my cheek briefly. “You’re cute, Reese. Cheerful. Optimistic. Funny. But completely deluded.” Grasping his bag, he stood up abruptly, letting me know he was done talking. “Thanks for making my sister smile. And thanks for the tomatoes. I’ll see you around.”

As I watched him take off, I wanted to call after him and make him come back. He’d looked so lonely when he’d said he was stuck. The pain in his eyes had cried for help. It had cried for a friend.

And I could always use a new friend. But I’d have to be extra careful. Because that’s all he could be.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“You’ll never guess what rumor I heard yesterday.”

Eva’s voice startled me Friday morning before Brit Lit as she slid into the seat beside mine. I’d been downloading a few songs Sarah and I could boogie to onto my phone.

“What’s that?” I asked, returning my attention to the four-inch screen to purchase a little Black Eyed Peas.

“I heard my favorite cousin on earth was spotted eating lunch with Waterford’s very own hunky, mysterious gigolo yesterday.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, he—Oh, I forgot to tell you.” I lowered the phone. “That babysitting gig I got—the one I started Wednesday—it’s his sister, Sarah. She has cerebral palsy. Did you know that?”

“About his sister? Yes, I’ve heard.” Eva made a grumbly sound in the back of her throat as she waved her hand. “How does that have anything to do with you sitting all alone in the middle of campus with her brother…yesterday?”

“Well, I guess I’m a kick-ass babysitter.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder as I flashed her a smug grin, preening over my awesomeness. “Miss Sarah raved about her evening with me to him, and he wanted to…I don’t know, thank me, I guess, for being so nice to her.”

Eva’s mouth dropped open as if she didn’t buy such a lame excuse. “Really? That’s all he said to you during your forty-five-minute conversation?”

Wow, our gossiping eavesdroppers had actually been timing us? Weird. And had we really talked for forty-five minutes? No way. It hadn’t felt that long. But then, it hadn’t felt nearly long enough, either.

“Well…” I frowned. “Mostly, yeah. After talking about Sarah, we moved on to a couple other topics, but—”

“What other topics? Like his work?”

I rolled my eyes. My God, she could be even more curious than I was sometimes. “Well…sort of. That was on the list. But we talked about all kinds of—”

“Oh, my God, so he admitted what he is.”

“You said he would.”

“But…but everything I’ve ever heard about him was just…hearsay. This is actually…fact.” Her mouth fell open as she whispered, “Holy shit, he’s really a gigolo.”

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