Page 29 of Meet Hate Love
Of all the backhanded comments. “Twenty-seven is notnearingthirty.”
“It is.” The chatter of conversation filled the silence between us. “Are you just an exhibitionist? Like to whip it out and flaunt it?” She held up her arms and circled her hips like she was attempting to hula-hoop. “Flop it around?”
She looked ridiculous, but for some reason, I found it charming. Jetlag? Stupidity? My secret sick need to be rejected, then punched in the face by a beautiful woman?
“Do I look like a guy who posts dick pics on the internet for entertainment?”
Her gaze dragged over me, one petite dark brow slowly lifting in appraisal. “In your street clothes, I can see it.”
“No, I didn’t start My Dick Travels because I like to whip it out and flaunt it.” I leaned in close to her ear. I swore I noticed her shiver when I blew a breath against her skin. “Very eloquent of you, by the way.”
She shifted away from me. “Then why did you?”
Why did people do anything? “Why do you read weird sex crap?”
“Excuse me?” She propped her hands on her hips and gave me a look that said calling her choice of reading material “weird sex crap” was close to a cardinal sin. “I do not readweird sex crap.”
“Come on, Blake. You leave your books on the corner of your desk. And, again, you and Margot don’t know how to whisper.”
Huffing, she spun away from me and started down a set of marble steps. “You’re like a Peeping Tom with your ears. A Listening Larry or something.”
I hid my smile. The woman was ridiculous, and I found it way too entertaining. “It’s kind of hard not to listen when you’re talking about a book where the guy used a loaded gun to fuck his girlfriend.”
“Look, the safety was on. She was his captive, not his girlfriend. And he was a mafia lord.” Blake threw her hands into the air when she reached the last step. Like I was the unreasonable one here. “How else were they supposed to spice up their sex life?”
“Masturbation by way of firearms is what you consider ‘spicing’ things up?”
I’d never seen a woman roll her eyes so far back in her head in my life. “It’s fiction. Aka fantasy, Vance,” she said, walking down the huge corridor. “I’ll just go on assuming you’re a debauched deviant with an exigent need for attention.” She glanced over her shoulder. A pleased smile flickered over her face at that mouthful of unnecessary words.
“You realize you have issues…”
“Says the man who Photoshops raccoon-skin hats onto his penis...”
I rounded the corner after Blake, coming face to face with a judgmental glare from a gray-haired woman. I circled a finger by my temple while cutting my eyes toward Blake as I skirted past the lady.
“Fine,” I said, stopping beside Blake, who was staring up at a framed piece of art. “Paul was born from a combination of me getting blackout drunk, making one stupid post that went viral, and my best friend telling me I could make a lot of money on Lonely Fans.”
“Ah, so you’re just avaricious?” She shifted closer to me, pressing up onto her toes to whisper, “It means money grabbing?”
I ignored the way her warm breath teased my throat and shoved down the thoughts of how her uneven pants would feel against my chest while I was fucking her.
“Just like you’re presumptuous?” I made eye contact with her. “The money isn’t for me. My grandma took out loans on her house to help pay for my grandpa’s cancer treatment two years ago. They were so bad off financially they couldn’t afford to keep paying his life insurance, and when he finally passed, she was left with mountains of debt. Not just from the hospital but from the funeral. And the money I’ve made off my Lonely Fans is the only thing that’s kept the bank from foreclosing.”
She dropped back to her feet, losing at least two inches in height. Her gaze met mine and softened. “I’m really sorry…” She touched her hand to my arm. “I had no idea.”
One thing I’d never learned how to accept was sympathy. I hated to think my situation had made someone else feel bad. I shrugged, not looking at her as I moved to another piece of art. “It’s just life, isn’t it?”
“Life can suck sometimes.” We walked past a few more paintings in silence before Blake turned to me. “Want to see how fast we can finish up the last three exhibits?”
“Sure.”
She offered a soft smile, then pulled her phone from her purse and set a timer. If that wasn’t a peace offering from her, I didn’t know what would be.
ChapterEleven
BLAKE
I’d not properly prepped myself for Vance to disclose, in the middle of the Louvre, that he took dick pics for his grandmother. Wait! Not that he took themfor his grandmother,for his grandmother… but that he used the money to help her.
