Page 147 of The Pucking Wrong Man

At least the day was done. I sank onto the bench in the locker room, rocking my head back against the locker. I was so tired. I could probably fall asleep right there. I sat there for several minutes until my phone buzzed.

Camden was here.

For the first time since we’d met—I was kind of dreading seeing him.

I gathered up my bag and walked slowly outside, taking a deep breath when I saw him standing outside his truck. Some dancers were gathered in groups, and they kept shooting him looks, giggling as they talked about how hot he was.

My hackles immediately rose when I passed one group who were discussing all the ways they wanted him to fuck them.

Mine, I wanted to scream. He has a freaking dick tattoo in my honor!

I ran a hand down my face. Seriously, I was falling apart.

“Hi, baby girl,” Camden said, meeting me halfway, like he couldn’t bear to wait for me to get all the way to him.

“Hi,” I answered, and he frowned at the flatness in my voice.

“Everything okay?” He glared at everyone around us like they were responsible for my pissy attitude.

“Just…” My shoulders drooped. “I got some bad news today. And now, I really have to find a job. Immediately.”

He was quiet as he got me into the truck and then walked around to get in.

“What was the bad news?” he asked after we’d started driving.

I glanced at him. He looked so calm and beautiful. Camden was just as busy as me. I knew he’d had weights today and two team meetings, and yet he still was put together, completely unflappable.

“Anastasia?” he pressed, when I hadn’t said anything because I was staring at him.

“Madame Leclerc—who’s always hated me—she informed me that the Company is raising prices on everything, but not raising salaries for the junior dancers. I told her I thought I should get a raise—be paid something I could actually live on—since I’m dancing with a principal for the Showcase. She basically told me it would only happen if she was pleased with my performance...and then she followed that up with telling me she hasn’t been pleased with anything I’d done so far.”

“She sounds like a bitch," Camden remarked.

“Unfortunately, bitch or not, she’s one of the most famous former Prima Ballerinas in the United States. People flock to our Company to train with her. It just hasn’t worked out for me,” I whispered, staring out the window at the city passing by. “But it’s a little hard to find a job when, literally, your only training is to dance, and you can only work at night.” I laughed to myself. “Actually…I think I’m qualified to be a stripper, so I guess there’s that.”

There was a cracking sound and my gaze shot to Camden, only to see that he looked vaguely panicked...and he was gripping the steering wheel really tightly.

“Camden?” I asked cautiously.

“I thought we’d discussed not talking about stripping anymore?” he said roughly.

Except, I wasn’t sure that I was actually joking.

“I can cover anything you need, Anastasia. It’s not a problem.”

I frowned. “Why would you do that?”

Camden glanced over at me, his eyebrows raised. “Because that’s what couples do when they’re in a relationship, baby girl—they help each other.”

You owe me.

You’re using me.

Michael and his parents’ words echoed in my head.

No, that was not happening.

“You’re not paying for anything else, Camden,” I snapped after a moment, an edge of hysteria in my voice. “You’ve already done enough. I’m literally sleeping in your house rent free, eating your food—that you cook for me, by the way, going to fancy performances, and sleeping on satin sheets. You’re not giving me anything else!”

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