He's a Wh0re

V

Abe sinks into his chair, feeling oddly off-balance. Women don’t usually laugh in his face as naturally and as cute as Emmie. He’s accustomed to their fake laugh and naked hunger for attention, to them admiring every move he makes. But this woman—this odd woman with the strange laugh—caught him off guard. Instead of feeling irritated, he found himself… intrigued.

A familiar voice breaks his thoughts as Lana saunters over in a barely-there outfit, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Abe,” she purrs, frustrated by his lack of attention.

He gives her a distracted smile. Lana likes it rough, he knows that, but he doesn’t feel like indulging her fantasies right now. His mind drifts back to Emmie, that unconventional, unpolished presence that somehow pulled his attention more than Lana ever could.

As the producer calls them to the set, he notices Emmie with her camera, watching from a distance. She looks as disheveled as ever, her baggy clothes and oversized glasses doing nothing to hide her nervousness. He smirks at the thought—there’s no way someone like her could ever fit into his world.

Emmie steadies her camera, trying to focus on getting the best angles, but her mind is elsewhere. She’s sweating, her heart racing, every nerve in her body on edge as she tries to keep her emotions in check. Filming Abe and Lana’s scene is different from her usual work—every glance at him sends a surge of heat through her that she can’t ignore.

She finishes the shoot, muttering to herself, fighting back the unexpected, intense attraction she feels. She never thought working here would bring out this kind of reaction. She isn’t one to fantasize about anyone, but Abe is different, a walking warning sign that urges her to stay clear.

Quickly, she gathers her equipment, eager to leave before running into him again. But as she heads for the door, her luck runs out.

Abe exits the shower wrapped in a towel, his mind still lingering on Emmie’s laughter and sharp words. He sees her heading for the door, and without thinking, he reaches out, catching her by the elbow. She flinches, visibly startled.

A flicker of something crosses her face—embarrassment, maybe even disgust. He lets go, suddenly aware that he’s only in a towel, but he catches himself. And a playful scene comes in his head.

"Come with me,” he says, his voice low.

“Excuse me?” She’s bewildered.

“If you want to pay off your debt faster, come with me.” He bites his lip, almost daring her.

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m not one of your women, Abe.”

“Relax. You’re not my type anyway,” he replies, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at her visible relief. Her guarded look amuses him.

He gestures toward the door. “You coming or not?”

She follows him to his private gym, her jaw-dropping at the sight. It’s equipped with every machine she could imagine, the scent of metal and leather stirring memories of her own training days. She can’t resist tracing her fingers along the equipment, feeling an excitement she hasn’t felt in a while.

Abe watches her reaction, smirking as he hands her a pair of workout clothes. “We’ll deduct a hundred dollars from your debt every time you join me here.”

She takes the clothes, meeting his gaze with renewed confidence, trying to ignore the way her heart pounds faster in his presence.

This was new territory, and somehow, it was both thrilling and terrifying.

Tilting her head, she eyes him skeptically. “I thought you just wanted company. Why the workout?”

A grin spreads across his face. “Thought you could handle it. Or maybe you’re not as tough as you look?”

Emmie caught his gym clothes as he tossed them to her, her eyebrows lifting.

“You don’t actually expect me to wear this oversized stuff, do you?” she challenged. He only nodded, motioning to the women’s bathroom.

So that’s what this was. He’d invited her here to have a laugh at her expense—and, judging by his silence, to collect some kind of unspoken debt. He hadn’t spoken to her since picking her up, driving in total silence that hung awkwardly between them.

Once she’d changed, Emmie felt a little thrill mixed with nerves. Workouts didn’t scare her; Abe did, in a way she couldn’t quite name. His shirt was huge on her, the fabric still carrying a hint of his scent. She found herself closing her eyes for a second, breathing it in, before snapping back to reality. Shaking her head, she gripped the sink, staring at herself in the mirror.

Get a hold of yourself, Emmie. Focus.

Ignoring the shorts, she kept her leggings on and braided her hair. Taking a deep breath, she headed back out, her eyes widening as she saw Abe stretching, muscles flexing, grunts slipping out as he did push-ups. His entire focus, the way his neck flushed, the way he moved—she hated that he was so… distracting.

After a moment, he looked her way, drying his face with a towel. “Do your warm-ups.”

She nodded, relieved he was talking again, and dove into her routine. She wasn’t a stranger to exercise, though it had been years since her last gym visit. Still, she was fit, and her stretches quickly fell into rhythm. But she could feel his gaze, making her hyper-aware of each movement, even as she tried to ignore him.

After the warm-up, Abe handed her a pair of gloves.

“Get in the ring,” he said, his voice flat.

Her eyes widened. “Did I do something to deserve this?”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters, you’re… you, and I’m just a small woman. What if you lose control and snap? And all over… a hundred dollars?”

“I’m not a criminal,” he said, clearly annoyed.

She bit back a smirk, though her mind couldn’t help but flash warning signs. Sure, she’d sensed some decency in him, but she wasn’t naïve. Men could be unpredictable. She eyed him cautiously.

“I mean, what about a referee?” she suggested. “It’d be boring with just us—and we’d need someone to declare the winner, right?”

At that, he raised an eyebrow. “A referee?”

Emmie gave an awkward smile. She is not scared of sparring in the ring with Abe, but about something else more dangerous now that it's just the two of them in this hot room.

Wait - what? Hot room?!