Opening her messaging app, I sent myself a message from her phone and handed it back. “There. You need anything at all, you let me know.”
“Thanks.”
Her hands were no longer trembling, and I felt like a badass for reassuring her she was safe. So, of course, my body decided to remind me who was boss. The muscles in my left leg seized. Fire shot up my leg, snatching my breath. Stars danced before my eyes as I leaned against the counter, hoping I wouldn’t face plant on the floor.
“Hound?” Mila asked, sounding frantic.
“I’m fine,” I lied through gritted teeth. “Just need a minute.”
I tried to walk it out, but that only made it worse. Stumbling out into the dining area, I curled up on the nearest bench, trying to find a position to get some sort of relief.
Mila kneeled on the floor beside me. “What’s going on? What can I do?”
Writhing back and forth as I knuckled my hamstring, I couldn’t even form a response.
“Is it the muscle?” she asked.
The muscle? The nerve? The whole damn leg? I didn’t know, but it hurt like hell. “Fuck!”
“Roll onto your stomach,” she commanded.
Clueless as to how that would help, I was in no position to argue. Lying face down on the bench, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to breathe through the fire racing up and down my leg in waves. It was a good thing I hadn’t ridden out with the club because I sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten far.
For all my tough talk about protecting Mila, this was my humiliating reality. Pain would always rule my life.
Mila’s hands landed in the middle of my thigh. Through my jeans, I felt her slender but strong fingers knead at my hamstring, exploring the area. She hit an especially painful spot and I hissed out a curse. Instead of retracting her hands, she dug in, grinding her knuckles into my throbbing muscle.
I wanted to fucking die.
It took everything in me not to jump up off that bench and get out from under her goddamn hell fingers, but I couldn’t. Gritting my teeth, I resisted the urge to yell at her to stop.
“Feels like a knot,” Mila said, still working my muscle. “Like a golf ball under your skin. But it’s starting to break up. Feel that?”
I was trying my damnedest to block out the pain, but at her mention, I relaxed a little and focused on the sensation. My leg still felt like it was on fire, but the flames were dying down. “Yes,” I panted, shocked. “It’s actually getting better.”
She kept working my hamstring, digging her knuckles into it with an intensity that made me wish I had something to bite down on. The fire in my leg continued to die down until there was nothing left of it but embers.
Mila huffed out a breath and leaned back, pulling her hands away. “How’s that?”
Pushing myself up, I swung my legs around and cautiously stood. Little aftershocks stung my nerves, but at least my legs could support my weight. “Better. Much. Wow.” When I was hurting, touch didn’t appeal to me at all. I wanted to be as far away from everyone and everything as possible. Hell, if I could have wrapped myself in a bubble I would have. I’d been going to Eagle’s chiropractor, which had helped some, but I’d never even considered trying deep tissue massage. And Mila was incredible at it. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”
“Just a skill I picked up to make me more… employable.” She averted her gaze, making it clear she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m glad it helped you, though.”
I took a couple of steps, testing out my leg. “Yeah. Actually, it helped a lot. Usually when that happens, I’m down for the count.” Realizing how lame and worthless I sounded, I corrected myself. “Down for a while. You got some magical hands there, Mila. I can’t believe how much better I feel. Thank you.”
She smiled at me.
Unlike the myriad of slightly reserved smiles she’d previously given me, this smile was 100 watt, practically blinding in its brightness.
I took a few cautious steps. “This is awesome. How much do you usually charge for your services?”
Shock rolled over her face. “What?”
The change in pitch in her voice put me in mind of a firecracker, and I got the feeling she was ready to light my ass up. For what, I had no idea. Treading carefully, I asked, “Uh…. Wh-what do you charge for your… services?”
Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing to angry little slits. “Exactly whichservicesare you talking about, Hound?”
She was angry. Something I’d said had pissed her off and I had no idea why. Trying not to notice how fucking sexy she looked while scowling at me, I wondered what I’d said to put me on thin ice. “The massage you just gave me?” I asked tentatively. It was a question, because I refused to commit to the answer until I knew it was safe.
