Her gaze shot to my hand, and something that looked a lot like resolve settled over her features. “You think you can handle it? Fine. But remember, I warned you.”
I waited, wondering what she was about to share that had her acting like she was about to blow up my world.
“I… I’m not just a teacher. I’m like a… a courtesan.”
A what? “Is that like some kind of royalty or something?”
She chewed on her lip and shook her head. Her gaze darted right and left, as if afraid she’d be overheard. “No. I’m…” She seemed nervous, scared, and so damn hesitant it took everything in me to wait patiently and not shake the answer out of her. “I’m… kinda like Shari.”
Like Shari how? Had she even met Shari? What had I told her about the club whore? “A good cook?” I hazarded.
Mila withered. “No. I’m like Shari, but… I get paid. Well.”
My jaw dropped. I had to be mishearing her. “You’re a fuckin’ prostitute?”
Hurt flashed in her eyes before her walls slammed up again, blanking her expression. “Forget it.”
I couldn’t forget it. We’d come too far now, and I needed the truth. “Do you fuck guys for money or not?”
Her lips pressed into a hard line, and her face turned a shade of red I’d never seen before. Eyes narrowed, fists clenched at her sides, she spat, “Yes. You happy now?”
What. The. Fuck?
No, I wasn’t happy. I finally knew the truth, and it was worse than I could have imagined. She was a prostitute. A hooker. Shouldn’t this have come up before she fucking seduced me? Pissed, I glared right back. What did I really know about her? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Was anything she told me true? How could she keep something this big from me? All those conversations, the night we spent together, was any of it real? Had she been playing me the entire time?
And where did that leave me? Was I just another John she regretted fucking?
“I told you you didn’t want to know.”
“Yeah? Well, congratulations, you were right. So, how does this work? Do I need to pay you now, or later?”
I knew the question was a mistake before it even left my mouth. I watched it slam into her and saw the damage it did. They say hurt people hurt people, and Mila had hurt me so badly, I could barely breathe. I’d clapped back from a place of pain, and the result was written all over her face.
Not even her walls could hide her shock and heartache.
She slapped me across the face. “No, Hound, your broke ass can’t afford me.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she snapped her mouth shut, turned on her heel, and stormed off.
I deserved that.
People were staring at me like I was fungus on the bottom of a shower. Feeling like the worst kind of asshole, I rubbed my stinging cheek and took off after her.
18
Mila
IT HAD BEEN weeks since I’d spread my legs for money, but I’d never felt more like a prostitute than I did when Hound asked if he needed to pay me for sex. Shocked he would even suggest such a thing, my hand flew across his face before I even had time to process what I was doing.
Why was I even surprised by his reaction?
I’d expected it. Hell, it’s why I’d never told him about my side hustle in the first place. I’d learned long ago that people couldn’t accept all of me, so I was careful to keep my life compartmentalized, only letting them see what they needed to.
Except, now Hound knew too much.
He knew, because I’d told him! He’d pushed me too damn hard, and I’d revealed all in some misguided attempt to shove him away. I knew when the truth came out, he wouldn’t look at me the same. He’d see me as a slut—as someone he couldn’t respect or value—and he’d leave me alone.
Mission accomplished, Mila.
Yeah, I’d done it. I’d destroyed Hound’s view of me.
