Page 20 of Lucky's Trouble

“No. All anyone who walks through those doors wants is to feel accepted and seen. A lot of times, that doesn’t happen in their everyday life, so they come here. If anyone understands that, it’s me. My whole life, people assumed I’d do whatever they wanted because I didn’t speak up for myself.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. “I did it too, didn’t I?”

“It’s not all your fault. I let you do it.” Her smile is tight and sad.

“I’m sorry, My.”

“It’s okay. Really. But I have to admit, I’m enjoying figuring out who I am without anyone else’s input. This job is exactly what I needed to do that.”

“I’m happy for you.” We stare at each other in silence for a long moment, not needing words to communicate. When I feel my nose sting, it’s time to lighten the mood. “What if the person smells bad? Or you aren’t attracted to them? Or what if they’re really bad at sex?”

She ticks her answers off on her fingers. “We make all our guests shower before we begin services, and yes, we monitor to make sure they’re cleaning everything. I’m not always physically attracted to my clients, but there’s something attractive about every person on this Earth. You just have to find that thing. And sometimes they are bad at sex, but that’s what I’m here for. I’ve taught many a man how to please a woman.”

“What a crazy life you have.”

“What about you? Have you been seeing anyone?”

The last question sobers me. Even though we both worked for Neal, I made concessions to give Myla a semi-normal life. Myla has always been my weakness, and he exploited that as much as possible. As long as I did everything he asked of me, he mostly left her alone. She was free to come and go from our apartment, which meant she dated and had friends.

I took care of her behind the scenes, never letting her see the darkness just below the surface of the club. Everything was fine until Myla casually mentioned to Neal that she was applying to work at the Honey Pot. She met a woman who worked here who told her all about it, and the job appealed to her. If she would’ve talked to me about it first, I could’ve talked her out of it. But she didn’t, and when Neal brought me into his office to explain what he’d do to her if she quit, I knew I had to figure out a way to get her free.

The thing about twins in the sex industry is that we’re worth more together than apart. Every man has a fantasy about identical twins, and though it’s gross, we played into it for the cash. At least once a shift, we were hired for a private dance together. Neal made a lot of money off us, and it wasn’t easy to talk him into letting Myla go.

“No. Not seeing anyone.”

She shoves me playfully. “You need to get out there. One day, your youthful good looks will be gone, and you’ll still be alone.”

That was fine by me. When I picture my future, all I see is my sister and me when we’re old and gray, sitting on matching rocking chairs and knitting sweaters. I’m starting to realize that I might be pulling Myla into a future she doesn’t want. That leaves me sitting in a rocking chair all alone, but I’m unbothered. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy.

“I don’t mind being alone.”

“At least you’ll always have me.”

“Always,” I say and then change the subject. “So, tell me about you and Lucky.”

She rolls her eyes. “He’s an idiot, but he makes me laugh, and we have a lot in common.”

“Do you like him?” I don’t know why I’m asking. It doesn’t matter.

“A lot. I know he looks kind of scary, but he’s a giant softy.”

“Do you think you guys will. . . hook up or whatever?”

She laughs. “No. He’s definitely not my type. I mean, I adore him, but not like that. He’s like the older brother we never had.”

I curse at the relief I feel, even knowing there can’t ever be anything between Lucky and me. When someone harbors as many secrets as I do, you can’t afford to get close to anyone.

“Oh.”

Her brows bunch. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious. He said the same thing about you, but I’ve never seen a man and a woman be friends. Especially when they’re both hot.”

“You think he’s hot?” Her question is more accusatory than curious.

“Don’t you?”

Her nose scrunches. “He’s too hairy and veiny and muscly. I don’t want to worry my partner will crush me in bed.”

---