by J. Lea
Me: Are you sure you have the right number? What do you want?
Unknown number: You :)
His reply makes my heart beat faster, and my palms start to sweat.
Me: Are you that direct with all the girls?
Unknown number: Only with the ones I really like.
The reply makes me blush. I nervously smooth my hair. He likes me? I’m surprised he even remembers me. After all, he is a famous racer. A smile creeps on my face, and I shake my head incredulously. How come I caught his attention when he can get every girl he wants? I’m not ready for a one night stand, which I’m sure Jake is after. He has so many beautiful, sexy women to choose from. Women literally throw themselves at his feet, and he wants to go out with me. I’m not saying I’m ugly, far from it. I know some guys are interested in me, but I’m not ready to date yet. Shaking my head again, I enter the salon. I change into my uniform and prepare everything, so I can start working. I don’t bother to reply; he’ll forget about me soon enough. He probably mistook me for one of his girlfriends.
My first client is a regular—a student basketball player, very tall. Lately, he has been requesting exclusively me, and I don’t mind. If clients want me, I get paid better. After him, I massage a gymnast, a swimmer, and my last client of the day is Brett, a tennis player. It’s his first time, and I hope he’ll be satisfied with my work. I pour some oil into my palms, spread it around, and then put my hands on his muscled back. Slowly, I slide my hands all over his back to spread the oil evenly. I pay extra attention to the muscles between his shoulder blades because I notice he’s very tense. Then, I massage his arms. In the end, I focus on his legs. He’s tense all over, so I use the kneading technique on his rock-hard calves and thighs. I don’t give up until I can feel his muscles relaxing—I’m a great masseuse and I’m going to make him feel better. When I’m finally finished, Brett raises his head off the table, grinning.
“I feel reborn,” he says, stretching. “Who would have thought such a petite girl could give such a killer massage?” He shakes his head.
“I’m glad,” I respond, pleased by his compliment. “I’ll leave you so you can get dressed.” I exit the room, and go to the reception area so I can issue him a bill. Suddenly, Sophie rushes through the door. “What are you doing here?” I’m surprised to see her.
“I have news, do you want to grab some coffee?”
“Sure, let me just finish up here. Sit down. I won’t be long.” She nods and grabs a magazine. Brett comes to the cash register.
“You wore me out,” he says. “I don’t know if a woman has ever worn me out like that.” Winking at me, he hands me the money and leaves. Sophie is next to me in a second.
“He’s cute,” she starts. I shrug.
“I didn’t notice.”
“Come on, you’re not blind. Ella, guys are constantly flirting with you. It’s time to start living again.”
“I am living! Can’t you see?” Raising my arms, I wave around.
“I was talking about guys.”
“I’ve been on a date,” I defend myself.
“On one date,” she raises her thumb to emphasize her point, and puts the other hand on her hip. “Josh would want you to be happy,” she says with begging eyes.
“I am.”
“No, you’re not. I’ll stop poking my nose into your affairs, but you can’t spend the rest of your life alone,” she says firmly. “Well, should we go grab some coffee?”
I nod. It’s 4pm, and I’m exhausted enough to crave coffee, which will give me some extra boost. I wave goodbye to my co-worker, who is working an afternoon shift, and we head to a café close by.
“So, what’s your news? Tell me already. You know how impatient I am.”
Grinning wide, Sophie holds my hands that are resting on the table. “Matt took me on a trip with his bike. We stopped by some lake where we had a little picnic. It was so romantic. And then...” She sighs contently, while I wait impatiently for her to continue. “He asked me to marry him and I said yes!” She jumps in her chair excitedly.
“Wow, congrats! Sophie, that’s wonderful news. It was about time for Matt to pop the question. I’m really happy for you guys.” I reach across the table and give her a tight hug. “So, when’s the lucky day?”
“I’m not sure yet. In summer, probably, so we have plenty of time to organize everything.”
I’m so happy for her. Matt and Sophie have been together for six years, as long as Josh and I would have been if he were still alive. I wonder if we would also be engaged by now. Sadness overwhelms me, but I quickly put myself together as I don’t want to ruin Sophie’s happy moment.
“Would you be my maid of honor?” she shoots the question. “You are my best friend and I can’t imagine the happiest day of my life without you by my side. Please, say yes.” A happy tear rolls down my cheek. I’m so overwhelmed that I can only nod. We hug, tears of joy in our eyes. People are looking at us sideways, but we don’t care. This is our special moment, nobody will take it from us.
Sophie went to see the apartment with me in the city center that I liked so much. It’s on the third floor of a newly built apartment building, almost fully furnished. She was as impressed by the apartment as I was, so I decided to buy it. I’m moving in in a week and truth be told, I can’t wait to have a place of my own. Now that Sophie and Matt are engaged, even more so.
I’m just in the middle of reading an epic love story between a charming pirate and a feisty vicar’s daughter on my e-reader, when my phone beeps on the coffee table. I reach for it, and read the text.
Jake: What are you doing, beautiful?
I know it’s Jake’s number as I put it in my contacts the other day so I won’t have to guess who it is every time. For a second, I think about ignoring his text, but I still reply.
Me: Jake, what do you want?
I exhale to release all the tension that has built up inside of me.
Jake: I already told you. I want you. And I always get what I want. I won’t bite, at least not right away ;)
Me: I’m busy.
I really don’t want to get involved with anyone, especially not with a motorcycle racer. And I don’t do one-night stands. I swore to myself I would never, not in a million years, get involved in any way with a man who owns a motorcycle. Never again. I don’t want to, and I can’t go through the same traumatic experience I went through when I lost Josh. And Jake not only owns a bike, racing is his profession. I expect another text, but the phone starts ringing instead.
“Jake?” I ask, surprised. “What do you want? I told you I’m busy.”
“And I told you I want to take you out.”
“Why?” I ask, but I don’t let him answer while I continue. “Look, I’m not interested. Find some other girl, I’m sure there are many who would kill for an opportunity like that. Seriously, leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that.” His voice is full of confidence. “I want you.” His determination shocks me, and I’m rendered speechless. He’s said that multiple times now. I can’t help but to be intrigued by his words, but I want to stay on firm ground.
“Surely, your smooth talk works great with other girls, but not with me. Find someone else to have fun with. I’m not interested,” I assure him and hang up. But my thoughts are still with him and his blue eyes. I’d rather not start something I’m not sure would work out—or would end with me having my heart broken.
Jake
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I decided to spend it with my family. Today at 6 pm, I have an appointment at Ace. Three days ago, I called the salon and demanded Ella to be my masseuse. I want to see her even though she doesn’t want to see me. I can’t get her and her beautiful chocolate brown eyes out of my mind. I remembered she told me where she worked, so I found the address and the number on the Internet. Half an hour ago, I finished my training, grabbed a quick shower, and now I’m on my way to her. I have to get her out of my thoughts and a dinner and hot sex are exactly what I need to
help me. I’ll win her over eventually. The bell above the door chimes as I enter. A middle-aged woman greets me, and I tell her I’m here for my appointment.
“You’ll have to wait a few minutes. Ella is just about to finish her massage.” I nod as she goes to the back room, assuring her I don’t mind waiting. A couple of minutes later the door to her massage room opens, and Ella steps out. She’s wearing tights and a white T-shirt with the salon’s logo in the front. She doesn’t notice me as she’s talking to a man she just massaged, and I listen in on their conversation.
“Brett, don’t exaggerate.” She’s embarrassed, and waves her hand. Her cheeks turn red.
“Seriously, Ella, you know exactly where to squeeze and knead, your hands are magical,” he winks at her and Ella gets even more embarrassed. “You really don’t have time?” Smiling kindly, she shakes her head. She still doesn’t notice me as they move to the cash register. Brett touches her elbow and I can see in his eyes he likes her. Good, I say to myself. A little competition never hurts. But she will be mine in the end. He better be certain about that.
“50 dollars,” she says and gives him the receipt.
“Can I make an appointment for Monday? With you, of course,” he grins.
“Oh, that’s not going to work. I won’t be here then. If you want, I can pencil you in with Anna.” He interrupts her.
“No, no, I want you. Write me down for when you come back.” She hands him a Post It note, probably with the date and hour written on it. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to the next time. Perhaps, you’ll agree to a dinner then,” he winks and leaves. Ella steps from behind the counter, and she comes to a halt when she sees me. I give her one of my most charming smiles as I stand up.
“Jake? What are you doing here?”
“I have an appointment,” I say innocently. “With you.” I raise an eyebrow and watch her reaction.
“Uh-huh... Okay, let me just prep the room and then we can start.” Damn, I like making her nervous.
Chapter Six
Ella
I step into the massage room, change the towel on the massage table, and put my oils in order. What the hell is he doing here? I ask myself. Nervous, I fix my ponytail and take a few breaths to calm myself, and then I step in front of him.
“Come with me, please.” He obeys. “Strip down to your underwear and call out when you are done so we can start.” I turn around to leave the room before he starts taking off his clothes, so I can pull myself together from the shock of having him here.
“Where are you going?” he asks, surprised.
“Um, I’ll leave you to undress in peace. I’ll be right back.”
“Not necessary. I’ll be quick,” he flashes me his most charming smile that probably enchants every girl. He unbuttons his black worn out jeans and I turn away. Oh, God, why can’t I watch this? Breathe! I have massaged so many men in this room and I have never been as nervous as I am now, but not in the bad sense. “Done,” he says, and I turn around. Jake is already comfortably lying on the table, face down. I take a deep breath and exhale. I can do this. He’s just a client, I whisper to myself.
“Back and legs, right?” Nodding, he puts his chin on his hands that are crossed in front of him on the table. I get a nice view of his muscled body. He turns his head to me. I dribble some oil into my palms to warm my hands, and then I place them on his tanned back. At the first contact with his skin, my heart starts beating faster and I get even more nervous. I’m never nervous! I don’t know what’s happening. I try to collect myself, but his satisfied moan prevents that. I think my hands start shaking. It doesn’t help that his eyes are fixed on me at all times. I’m feeling as if the air in the room is filled with electricity.
“Mmm, this feels so good I might just die. Or perhaps I already died and went to heaven,” he says. I laugh, and suddenly I feel more relaxed. Once I’m done with one side of his back, I move around the table. The first thing I notice is that Jake has a huge tattoo on this side of his back. It looks like a beast, circled by three lines written in Latin, and it continues down on his belly.
“Interesting tattoo,” I say, as I put my hands back on his body.
“Yeah, I know,” he says, voice dripping with confidence. Suddenly, I feel a long line under my fingers where his tattoo is. A scar. I gently trace my fingers along the scar, and I feel him flinch under my touch.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and quickly move my hands away. I feel embarrassed for doing something so stupid. I didn’t mean to caress his scar, but my finger slid over his silky skin all on its own. I wonder what happened to him. I move to work on his legs, swallowing hard. First, I focus on his left foot, then I travel upwards, toward his biceps on the legs and his gluteus maximus. Every single part of his body is hard as steel. I have massaged my share of athletes, but none of them had such an effect on me as Jake. I don’t know whether to start a conversation with him or to remain silent. His closeness makes me uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. I haven’t felt anything like this since Josh.
Oh, god, Josh.
The thought of him sets me back on firm ground. Just the thought of another man makes me feel like I’m cheating on Josh. I get overwhelmed with sadness and guilt for lusting after another man. I decide to visit Josh’s grave as soon as I finish my work. It has been too long since I last visited. I feel guilty about that, too.
I focus on my job, not allowing the contact with Jake’s skin to tempt me anymore, so I can professionally finish massaging. I really hope he’s satisfied with my work. I wasn’t quite myself during the session. Jake’s closeness turned my brain into mush.
Jake
The touch of her hands on my skin is the best thing I’ve ever felt. Considering her petite figure, her hands on me are strong and confident. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she isn’t afraid to show it. In the beginning of the massage, I accidentally let out a moan when she touched me. I thought I could contain it, but the feeling was too divine.
I watch her the whole time, yet she consistently avoids my eye contact. What’s troubling her? She then touches my scar, hidden under the tattoo, and the contact makes me flinch. I’m not used to people touching me there ever since the accident. I haven’t let any woman close to it. Soon after, I sense her mood change. It’s almost as if she turned into a robot. She’s still doing a great job massaging me. I can safely say this is the best massage I’ve ever had, but I feel her walls come up and a switch goes off inside her. Her touch is different now.
“All done,” she says, as she wipes her hands into a towel then leaves the room. I jump off the table, get dressed, and join her at the cash register where she hands me the receipt. I pull the money out of my pocket, so I can give it to her.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” she answers.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m okay, alright?” she says sharply. I raise my hands in defense.
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be intrusive.”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” She tries to give me back my change, but I refuse to take it, saying it’s a tip. “Thank you,” she says, and puts the money away.
“Finished for today?” I raise my brow as she puts on her coat and she nods. She opens her purse, and pulls out her car keys. “Meredith, I’m leaving! Have a nice holiday!” she calls out. I notice a hand appearing out the door at the end of the hall, waving.
“Do you want to grab a drink with me?” Hell if I won’t get her to go out with me.
“Um, I can’t... I have a... I have to be somewhere.” She tries to make an excuse.
“Why are you avoiding me?” I ask her directly.
“I’m not. I have things to do.”
“Whatever,” I wave my hand, feeling a little offended. “Thank you for the massage. See you around,” I add before leaving the salon. I don’t know why I’m feeling offended. Perhaps it’s because I’m not used t
o women rejecting me. Luckily, no one is outside, and by no one, I mean groupies that are practically stalking my every move. I’m still baffled by how they manage to find out about my locations. I sit into my black Audi R8 and drive off. I have an hour drive ahead of me.
“Hello, I’m home,” I yell, as I enter my parents’ home. “Is anybody here?” The next second, I feel my sister Sarah crashing into my side with full force. Sarah is my little sister. She’s 8 years younger than me, a really pretty 17-year-old, and I don’t doubt all the boys are drooling after her.
“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” she says, as she hugs me tightly. It’s been a few months since I’ve last visited my family. With all the races and practice, it was difficult to find time to come home.
“I missed you, too,” I assure her, and give her a peck on the forehead. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Mom’s in the kitchen and dad is, like usual, working on his Mustang.”
We go to the kitchen where we are welcomed by wonderful aroma. As soon as mom sees me, she grabs a kitchen towel and wipes her hands. Coming closer, she puts her hands on every side of my head and says,
“Jake, you’re finally home.” She examines me from head to toe. “You lost weight,” she adds. “Don’t they give you anything to eat? Well, it’s great to have you home, I’ll fatten you up.”
Our neighbors and long-time friends are also coming to the dinner—Maggie, Tom, their son Scott, and his pregnant girlfriend, Tara. Scott and I have known each other ever since we were kids, but we only manage to get together once or twice a year due to my packed schedule. Scott, Tara and I are sitting in the living room. Scott and I are drinking beer and Tara is holding a glass of orange juice. We are talking about motorcycling, racing, their future baby and the approaching wedding, which is going to take place on Christmas day. They are planning an intimate ceremony—only them and their parents. During the conversation, a beep from my phone interrupts me. I tap the screen and I’m surprised to see whose text is.