Although the main reason he’d left Damon high and dry was to hide before the hurt he could feel filling his chest cavity showed on his face, Micah also did have to pee, so he quickly took care of business in one of the vacant stalls.

He must have been lost in tumultuous thoughts because when he stepped out of the stall, he nearly shat himself when he ran straight into Damon’s Uncle Marco, of all people. (Which was strange, since he hadn’t heard the door open or any footsteps.)

“Jesus, you scared me,” Micah said, bringing a hand to his chest, under which his heart pumped double time. “It’s all yours,” he added, gesturing behind him at the open stall before stepping up to the line of sinks.

When he glanced up into the mirror after soaping his hands, Micah’s heart rate sped up even more when he realized that instead of using the toilet, Marco had apparently decided to stand creepily close behind him instead.

“How much?” the man demanded.

Deciding he wasn’t going to show his alarm – whether he was actually intimidated or not – Micah made a show of carefully washing and drying his hands before turning around to face Marco. The man had left only a foot of space between them. “How much… what?”

Marco frowned. “Don’t play coy; it doesn’t become you. How much money to leave Damon alone?”

Micah could admit to being caught flat-footed. “Does Damon want me to leave him alone?” he asked. “Because he’s a big boy, and I’m pretty sure he’d tell me himself if he did.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed. “What Damon wants is of little consequence,” he said after a moment. “I’m not about to let him be taken on a ride by some pretentious, money-grabbing hussy no matter how prettily you bat your eyes at him.” He paused, eyeing Micah up and down. “Or me, for that matter.”

Ew.

Micah didn’t have to fake being insulted. “I’d rather get ran over by Damon’s Rolls-Royce – no, whatever pretentious vehicle you drive – than let your old-man cock within ten feet of me.” He paused. “And I didn’t even know Damon was rich when we met, so you can fuck right off with that gold digger bullshit.”

“Met?” Marco raised an eyebrow, ignoring the first part of what Micah had said. “Is that what they call picking prostitutes up off the street nowadays?”

Micah rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”

He went to step around the man, but Marco immediately copied his movement, apparently not ready to let Micah escape. In fact, he took the opportunity to crowd Micah further up against the sink, until it was digging into his lower back.

“I don’t think you understand. I’m doing this for you as much as I am for him.”