Page 21 of Lucky's Trouble

All of the things she hates are what I love. Our tastes couldn’t be more opposite.

“I guess.”

“Don’t go there, Tinny.” Her tone is cautionary.

“Go where?”

“He’s literally my boss, and he’s a man-whore. Not that there’s anything wrong with having an active sex life, but he has no intention of ever settling down.”

Neither do I.

“I’m not going to hook up with him. I was just asking.”

“I mean it. He’s off-limits. I really like it here, and I don’t want to have to get a job at any of the other brothels if you get together and then things go sou—”

“Myla! I’m not doing anything with Lucky. It was just a question.”

The look she gives me says she doesn’t believe me. “Can I even trust him to get you home without hitting on you?”

We both whip our heads around when there are three consecutive knocks at the door, and a grinning Lucky appears. Whatever look he sees on our faces causes his smile to fade, the licorice hanging out of his mouth drooping.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” we say in unison.

“Are you ready to go? ’Cause I can come back.”

“No, I’m ready.” I lean over, smothering Myla in a hug that has to last me for a long time. “Love you, sis.”

“Love you too. Next time I’m off tour, we should get together.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

She sighs. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I have some things going on, but I’ll try.” Climbing off the bed, I straighten myself and turn to the sexy, bearded biker in the doorway. “Let’s go.”

Once outside, dread fills me. Today was so fun and relaxing, two words I never use to describe my life, but now, it’s over and back to reality. Not knowing if I’ll get caught only adds to the sick feeling taking over me.

“You okay?” Lucky asks, handing me a helmet.

“Fine.” I plop it on my head and wait for him to climb on before straddling the bike.

“You in a rush to get back?” he calls out after bringing the engine to life.

“Yes.”

“You can’t take a small detour?”

“No, Lucky. Thank you for bringing me here, but I don’t have the luxury of gallivanting around all day.”

“What if I promised you’d enjoy it?”

I should say no. The longer I’m out, the greater the risk of getting caught. Still, something in me wants to cling to this freedom for as long as I can. Chances are I’ll be found out, and my evening will look much different than my day. Might as well make it worth it.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I have an errand to run.”

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