Page 28 of Fly Boy
His gaze roams from my feet up, each sweep of his eyes lighting me up on the inside until it snaps to my face, his eyes comically wide that I almost laugh. Partly because he looks like a cartoon, all bug-eyed, and also because I’ve never heard him swear before. “What the fuck is going on?”
“As if I know,” I say, but then I notice not one but two massage tables, side by side. This time I do laugh, my hand flying to my mouth. “Oh, hell no.”
Wyatt’s stare still hasn’t shifted from my face, like he’s trying not to look anywhere else, meaning the implications of this setup have not yet sunk in. I drop my hand, sucking my lips between my teeth, gearing up to let him in on the secret when two masseurs join us.
“Welcome,” one says, her hands held in a prayer pose as her colleague closes the door. “My name is Jessie,” she says, pressinga palm to her heart. “And this is Elsa. Are you ready for your ninety-minute couple’s massage?”
“Couples, what?” Wyatt splutters, taking a step back.
Jessie looks between us, confused. “Is…something the matter?”
“Oh my god,” I giggle, grabbing the lapels of my robe and bringing them up to hide my face. Upon check-in, they gave us a romantic lodge for couples; why should a massage be any different?
“Is this…uh…” Elsa says, trailing off. I peek out from my hideout, my face hot from the awkwardness emanating from the two surprised ladies standing across from me.
“We are not a couple,” Wyatt states in a tone that holds zero amusement. The humor I felt mere seconds ago washes away like a wave on the sand. Does he really find the idea ofusso repulsive that he couldn’t even pretend for the sake of an hour and a half?
“Oh, dear,” Jessie says.
“This has never happened before,” Elsa adds.
Raising my hand, I shake off their concern. “Honestly, don’t worry about it. I can move to another room.”
The pair glance at each other, silently communicating, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. While Wyatt might not think this is funny, I’m back to finding this hilarious. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any other therapy rooms available.”
“It’s fine,” Wyatt clips, making his way toward the door. “I’ll go.”
“No, Wyatt,” I call, and to my surprise, he stops with his hand already on the handle. I lift a finger, signaling that I need a second before approaching his side. Lowering my voice, I say, “Look, we both need this, and it’s not like we’re massaging each other.”
Even through his uniform shirt, I can tell his muscles are bunched together as he focuses hard on the wooden door, like he’s trying to burn a hole in it to escape.
This man is in desperate need of some deep tissue treatment; it’s not even funny.
I reach out and, for the first time, I touch him. It’s nothing more than a friendly gesture, but the zing it creates against my hand is unmistakable. His upper arm tenses at the contact, and I try to ignore it, ignore the arousal that floods my veins, and all because of a clothed bicep. I can’t read into how it feels to have my hand on him. At least not right now, not until I’m alone and can explore what that means. Getting Wyatt on that table is more important.
“Our heads will be in the face hole, so we don’t need to look at each other,” I say, my words a little breathy that I hope he doesn’t notice. “Plus, there are sheets that will be covering us.” I lower my arm, resigned that maybe this just isn’t for him, but it’s not in my nature to give up. “And if you’re so paranoid, keep your back turned, and I’ll slip in first and let you know when it’s safe for you to turn around.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye, and I stick out my lower lip, giving him my best puppy dog expression. “Please. I even got you a present.”
He’s quiet as I brandish the swim shorts from the deep pockets in my robe. He pushes his tongue into his cheek as he looks over the pattern before snatching them from my grasp. “Fine.”
Vindicated, I step away from him and grin at the ladies here to relieve stress. “You heard him. Let’s do this.”
Jessie nods and gestures to a screen near the foot of the beds. “Great. We will pop behind here and let you get yourselves ready.” She turns her attention to a scowling Wyatt. “Sir, you can either wear the shorts, leave your underwear on, or remove everything entirely. The preference is completely up to you.”
Wyatt’s face somehow simultaneously pales and reddens. “You mean, get naked?”
I roll my eyes and pull back the sheet on one of the tables. “Oh my god, Wyatt, just strip already. Look, I’m wearing a bikini…” Wyatt’s head snaps up so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash as I throw off my robe and stand before him.
I’m one of those girls who’s comfortable in their own skin, not really caring if people stare or judge me—I get enough of that when I’m on the ice fully dressed—but there’s something about Wyatt so obviously trying to avoid looking at me, that makes my blood heat with the thrill of a challenge. He’s staring at the ceiling like it’s the Sistine Chapel with Michelangelo’s Twelve Apostles painted on it.
Picking up the discarded robe, I toss it onto a chair in the corner before climbing onto the bed. The table creaks as I get myself situated under the sheet, pulling it up to my shoulders.
“Okay, your turn,” I say, my words muffled thanks to my face being squished on either side by the headrest. Holding my arms out wide, I wiggle my fingers. “See? Not even looking.”
There’s a pause, and since I told him I’d behave and keep my face in the hole, I can’t see what he’s doing. Unease nips at the corner of my mind, a small part of me wondering if he’d try to sneak out, but then I hear a long huff, followed by footsteps toward me.
I am not prepared for how my body reacts, every fiber prickling as he gets closer. At least, that’s what it feels like he’s doing, but then I hear the sound of his belt jingling, followed by the rustle of him undressing and the soft thud of fabric landing on fabric as I realize he’s placing his clothes alongside my robe.
My skin burns under the soft blanket as my mind runs free, picturing him foregoing the swim shorts… lying on his table completely naked… no sheet covering him and the masseuse is me.
