“No, I’m not. And you need to understand that, babe, right now.” Perhaps his exhaustion was putting him in a mood. Didn’t excuse him taking that shit out on her. He knew she didn’t deserve to have him snap at her. Still he couldn’t seem to stop. Shit just spilled out of his mouth, shit he hadn’t intended to say.
“Ghost—”
“I’ve done a lot of shit, Jess. Things you’d never understand. Things you’d never get past if you knew. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. And when I do, you’ll walk out that door, sure as shit.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is, Jess.”
“Ghost—”
“You lookin’ to start a fight? That’s where we’re goin’ with this. So just drop it.”
“Okay, fine. It’s dropped.” She raised her hands.
He ran a frustrated hand down his face. “Sorry, brat. Didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just tired.” He sat on the end of the bed. “Fuck, my back hurts.”
She moved to sit on the side, facing his back.
“Maybe I can help you feel better.”
“Don’t think so.”
She slid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscles. Fuck, that felt good. His eyes slid closed and he moaned, rolling with her motions, allowing her to manipulate some of the tightness out.
“Well, it is what I do for a living.” What the fuck? He was off the bed like a shot, spinning to look down at her. She stared up at him, confusion written on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“You make men feel good for a living?”
“What? No! Jesus, Ghost, get your head out of the gutter!”
“What the hell did you just mean?”
“Are you saying you think I’m a…a…streetwalker or prostitute or…whatever?” She was at a loss for words.
“What are you saying?” he snapped right back. “You get paid to do what exactly?”
She surged to her feet. “I’m a massage therapist, you moron!”
His chin pulled back. “Massage therapist?”
“Yes. Trained and everything.”
He frowned, wondering when the hell that had happened. “Seriously?”
Her hands landed on her hips. “Yes, Ghost. Seriously. And I’m good at it. I could work the tightness out of your back if you’d let me. But after that remark, I’m not so sure I want to anymore.”
“Brat, you gotta see where I was confused. When you said…”
“Just shut up before you dig a deeper hole.”
Good fucking advice. He knew enough to know when a woman told you to shut up, you best shut up. So he nodded and shut up.
She huffed out a breath. “Fine. Lay back down.”
He eyed the bed. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“Your back hurts, doesn’t it? Or don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”