Page 9 of Sweet Ruin

“Okay, well as long as you know the risks.”

“I do.” Wes nodded solemnly, like he was about to go into battle. “So, where do you want me?”

“Uh, maybe sitting on the edge of the bed?”

“Done.” He moved over to the edge of his bed, and I knelt on the mattress behind him.

I hesitated as I went to place my hands on his shoulders. I really didn’t know a thing about massages. I’d never even had one myself. I wasn’t sure what I’d been thinking by offering to give one to Wes. I supposed I’d just wanted to help him so he was no longer in pain. And I really hoped this did help. I’d feel terrible if it made his discomfort even worse.

My stomach dipped as I placed my hands on his shoulders. His body was warm to touch, and from this close, I could clearly smell the scent of his shampoo. It was a fresh and inviting smell with hints of peppermint. I hadn’t noticed when I’d first arrived, but soft music was drifting from a speaker on the other side of the room. The artist singing had a soothing voice, and the gentle thrumming of their guitar was perfectly relaxing.

Despite the calming atmosphere, I felt tense, and I was struggling to ignore the nerves thrumming through me. I closed my eyes, hoping that might help me scrounge up some unknown massage talent hidden deep within me. Unfortunately, I had no luck. I was certain I was doing it wrong. Wes’s shoulders were so firm and muscular it was hard to know if I was having any impact at all. It didn’t help that his shirt kept bunching in my grasp.

I let out a sigh and opened my eyes again, lowering my hands from him. “Your shirt is kind of getting in the way.” I had to think of some excuse for my pathetic massage skills, and that seemed as good as any.

Wes turned to look at me. “Are you trying to undress me, Isobel?”

As if I wasn’t already embarrassed enough, my cheeks betrayed me and flashed bright red. “I just think I’d do a better job without it.”

He shrugged and released a soft laugh. “Well, it felt pretty good to me, but I’m not going to complain if you want to try and make it even better.”

I shook my head, convinced he was just being polite.

Before I could say anything else, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, and I swallowed hard as I looked at him. His chest was tanned, and his muscles were large and smooth. I knew Wes was strong and athletic, but seeing him now, I imagined he could lift me up over his head using only one arm. My mouth went completely dry, and I had no idea how I was going to bring myself to touch him again. He didn’t look real. First, I’d offered to give him a massage, and now I’d made him take off his shirt—who was I, and what had I done with the real Isobel?

Wes glanced at me again as I hesitated. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Of course. Sorry, I was just trying to figure out what exactly they’ve been feeding you at this school.”

“Well, my coach would tell you I sneak too much dessert, and Sawyer would tell you I eat like I’m no fun.” He gave an awkward laugh, and I wondered if he was just as nervous about being topless around me as I was. It probably didn’t help I was kneeling on the bed staring at him like I’d never seen a boy without a shirt on before.

The idea that it wasn’t just me who was a little tense in this situation made it easier to lower my hands to Wes’s shoulders once more. It was Wes I was massaging, after all. I could be totally relaxed around him. I could trust him.

Still, it was hard to convince the butterflies fluttering inside me to settle. I still had no idea what I was doing. The closest I’d ever come to a massage was kneading a ball of dough in my mom’s kitchen. It was a useless comparison though as there was absolutely nothing doughy about Wes’s back. And when he let out a small groan, my stomach dropped again in response. The sound was low and gravelly and far more intimate than I’d been ready for.

“It’s not too bad, is it?” I asked.

“Pretty sure it’s the opposite of bad,” Wes said. “It’s…”

I jumped as a loud knock sounded at the door. My hands instinctively lifted off Wes’s shoulders and hovered there for a second before dropping to my sides. He didn’t immediately move to answer the door though.

“Should we see who’s there?” I asked.

“I’m sure they’ll take the hint and leave.” Wes didn’t sound too hopeful, and he was quickly proved wrong when the knock sounded again. After a few seconds of silence, there was yet another knock. Wes sighed and pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the door. As he pulled it open, a girl came into view. Her eyes widened as she was confronted by Wes’s bare chest. The poor girl looked like she was about to have a heart attack. Me too, girl. Me too.

“Can I help you?” Wes asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” The girl blushed, but just as she was about to continue, her eyes drifted past Wes to where I was perched on his bed. She glanced between me and the half-naked boy standing in front of her, and I could practically hear the cogs whirring in her head. Whatever she had come to the twins’ room to say seemed to completely slip her mind when she saw me in the room with a shirtless Wes, and she stood there with her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Hello…?” Wes prompted the girl, and she seemed to snap out of her temporary trance with a shake of her head.

“Uh, I heard you were looking for a date to your family’s Thanksgiving gala—”

Wes cut her off. “If you can’t tell my brother and me apart, you’re probably not the girl Sawyer’s looking for,” he said.

“Oh.” Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re Wes.” Her eyes dragged longingly over his chest once more, and again she seemed to briefly forget why she had come to the room in the first place.

“Yep, I’m Wes. Sawyer’s at soccer practice, so maybe try him there.” Wes’s response was a clear signal for the girl to leave. She nodded, but as he closed the door on her, her gaze flicked to meet mine once more. Just before it slammed shut, I could have sworn a wry smile was pulling at her lips.

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