Page 57 of Shamed
All the what-ifs.
“Would you consider coming back to my place for two hundred cash?”
I’m startled back to the present, the music, the chatter, the man I’m dancing for all coming back into focus. I had been on autopilot, so lost in my own thoughts about the past that I hadn’t realized how much time had passed.
My gut twists. “I’m not a prostitute.”
He doesn’t even look at my face as he snorts, his eyes glued to my chest. “Close enough.”
Thankfully, his time is already up, and I get up from his lap. “The answer is no.”
“But what about—”
I don’t wait for his next offer before I walk away, resisting a full body shiver.
As I move through the floor, I find myself thinking back to last night again. I had debated going to his class for days before I finally made it there. Then it took Mase opening the door in front of me before I could force myself inside.
All because I didn’t want to make anything easier on myself.
The class had been an experience all on its own, but it’s the events after that, that have been circling my mind.
Mase stopped those men from pursuing me. But he didn’t just stop them; he incapacitated the handsy guy who had followed me to my front door, without even using his fists.
And he made it lookeasy.
I guess he is a self-defense instructor, so it shouldn’t be surprising. But the way he moved with such precision and strength was almost mesmerizing.
I just can’t figure out what he was even doing there. He couldn’t have followed me, because I caught the bus while he was still at the gym. And I don’t see how he could have gotten my address since I don’t have it listed anywhere.
Regardless ofhowhe ended up there, he was there, and at the perfect time.
I had run inside shaken up, so I didn’t even see what happened next. I’m not sure whether Mase had stuck around and fought some more, or if he drove off after he took the first guy down.
But what if he got hurt?
No.
Mase knew exactly what he was doing and what he was getting into.
I could tell he was built well when I first laid eyes on him at the club, but last night confirmed it.
I saw exactly what he was working with at the self-defense class. It’s the first time in averylong time that I looked at a man’s physique without having a negative reaction. Defined muscles filled out his arms and shoulders, and even his legs were toned and muscular.
Grateful is hardly a good enough word to describe how I feel about him being there.
But then that voice speaks up again, reminding me that I would have deserved whatever happened to me had henotbeen there.
Swallowing, I set my shoulders back and approach the next person requesting a dance.
A couple of hours later, I exit as usual through the side door, dropping a twenty along with a cookie off with the homelessman, ready to face whoever turns up outside my apartment tonight.
Perhaps I can use one of the moves Mase had taught in his class, or even try the same one I saw him use.
And if that doesn’t work? Well . . . I’m prepared to face that as well.
I turn the corner out of the alley but come to an abrupt stop when I see Mase leaning against the wall.What the hell?Obviously, I was getting too comfortable with my life, so the universe decided to plant Mase in it just to fuck with me.
He pushes away from the wall as soon as he sees me, like he’s been waiting for me to appear.
