Something Like Love (Serendipitous Love Book 6)

by Christina C Jones

  “They really are,” Charlie added. “You want to try it?”

  I scowled. “Hell no. Give me the originals. Baked chops, greens, mac and cheese.”

  She laughed. “I already knew that boy, you order the same thing every time.”

  “You aren’t even usually up here taking orders, how do you know?”

  “Cause I know my shit,” she teased. “And the girl that’s usually up here called in today, so you’ve got me. And I’ve got you,” she added, as she finished tapping in my order on the screen, then handed me a number to take to my table. “We’ll have it out in a few minutes.”

  I took my number and turned around, trying to find a spot in the open seating plan Pot Liquor used until wait service started at five. We were off the typical lunch hours, but there was still a good amount of people there, enough that there wasn’t a lot of seating available. I didn’t want to take up a four-person table to myself, and the only smaller table available… was next to the table Astrid had chosen.

  Shit.

  But I wasn’t about to let it phase me.

  Nope.

  She glanced up as I approached, and offered a quick smile before she went back to whatever she was doing on her phone. As soon as I’d sat down, I wished that I’d chosen to sit with my back to her instead of facing her like I was, but switching seats… that was probably doing too much.

  So I did the same thing she was doing – engrossed myself in my phone.

  But I couldn’t keep my eyes on the screen.

  Instead, they kept going back to her, even after we both had our food. Over and over, my gaze lingered to her, watching the movements of her mouth, the fan of her eyelashes, the grace of her fingers. A little smirk crossed her lips, and at first I thought she was laughing about something on her phone, but then then she looked up, meeting my eyes as her cheeks lifted into a full on smile.

  “Are you enjoying your lunch, Edison?” she asked, in a distinctly innocent tone. “Appreciating the view?”

  I scoffed. “Funny.”

  “I’m not being funny – or at least, not trying. But I guess it is a bit of a silly question, right?” She raised her fork to her mouth and stuck out her tongue, making a subtle show of licking it clean – a show I couldn’t have looked away from if I tried. “I mean… you keep looking at me, so… you must like what you see, right?”

  “Your hair,” I started, knowing that was a lame ass cover, and so did she. “It’s big as hell. Hard not to look.”

  She smirked again. “My hair, huh?” She dipped her fork down to her plate for another bite of her sweet potatoes. “Sure. We can go with that if you want to.”

  Shit.

  I couldn’t even think of a smartass comeback, mainly because… there was no comeback. She had me pegged, exactly, and anything I wanted to try to say to fully deny it would be lame, cause it would be an outright lie. So instead, I put my attention back on my plate.

  I was relieved when she got up to leave, but didn’t miss that she made sure to pass behind me, leaving that vanilla-and-jasmine scent in her wake. When I couldn’t feel her presence anymore, I let out the breath I’d been holding, and shook my head.

  This shit couldn’t keep happening.

  Somehow, she’d worked some kind of unknown magic that had me all discombobulated, and it was messing with my head. One way or another… I had to get from under this little spell.

  &

  I was going back to yoga.

  And not as some sideways ploy to put myself in Astrid’s space, considering I’d done a remarkable job of not running into her, not hearing her name, not seeing her, for coming on two weeks. Just when I was thinking I was getting past whatever affliction it was she’d worked on me, I woke up the morning after a particularly hard workout feeling like my joints were superglued in place, and my muscles were stiff as boards.

  Hot shower didn’t help. Foam roller didn’t help. Trying to stretch helped a bit, but ultimately only made me feel like I needed something deeper.

  So… I decided to hit yoga, remembering how loose and agile I’d felt after just those few sessions. I dressed to work out, then packed my gym bag and headed out, arriving at the studio just about mid-morning. When I stepped in, I was struck by how quiet it was, but I could have sworn this was the same time Kim had given me for her second morning class.

  But I didn’t see Kim, or anybody else. Faintly, I heard music, which led me down a hall. As I got closer, I recognized Big Sean and Jhene Aiko singing Push It, growing louder as I approached a certain door.

  The classes I’d done here before had an eclectic soundtrack, so the sensual subject matter of the song didn’t throw me off. I figured since I was here, I would just slip in on whatever class was going on. But when I opened that door – that I had no business opening, I quickly realized – there was no class.

  It was just Astrid.

  In tiny blue boy shorts, and a tank top that was hiked up over her midriff. She was balanced on her hands, but with one leg extended behind her, and the other in front, in what was essentially a split. She’d had her eyes closed as I eased the door open, but when it closed behind me after I fully stepped in – why the hell had I stepped in? – she opened them, and then returned her feet to the floor, in some kind of half-cartwheel motion.

  “What are you doing? How did you get in here?” she asked, raising her voice over the music.

  I shrugged. “I… the front door was open. I was just coming for Kim’s class, and didn’t see anybody. I followed the music.”

  “Oh.” She crossed her arms, which brought my eyes to her chest. There was no bra under that tank, if the prominence of her nipples was any indication. “It’s Tuesday. Kim only does classes Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

  “Shit.” I shook my head. “My bad. I wasn’t even thinking about that. Was just trying to get some relief in. But uh… you should have the door locked if nobody is here except you. I could have been just anybody walking in here.”

  She scoffed. “You are just anybody walking in here,” she corrected. “And I usually do have the door locked on Tuesdays. It’s been a crazy day. Must have slipped my mind.”

  Huh.

  Now that I really thought about it… she did seem a little off today. Not as… sunny as usual.

  “Yeah, well… I’m just saying. It’s not the safest thing in the world.”

  “And I said I meant to lock the damn door, didn’t I?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’ll come back for Kim tomorrow.” I turned to leave, and was reaching for the door handle when she spoke again.

  “You must’ve have really needed to get a session in, huh? You didn’t even bother to check the time before you came down here. And you interrupted my practice, by the way.”

  I let out a dry laugh. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sore, and stiff, and I was trying to get a good stretch or something in. That’s it. I didn’t mean to throw you off.”

  “Sure. Any other time, you’d love to have bothered me, to have been rude, or gotten under my skin, but I’m supposed to believe your apology? You could’ve kept it.”

  Again, my eyebrows shot up. “Did your weekly supply of zen get lost in the mail or something? Let me get my ass out of here, and out of your way, since you’re obviously not on your peaceful shit today.”

  “You don’t do yoga because you’re hurting,” she said, once I’d turned around, causing another hesitation. “It’s not supposed to be a response to aching, or infirmity. It’s for strength, and flexibility, and peace of mind. Doing it while you’re in pain can make it worse, if you’re not careful.”

  I turned back to face her. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Obviously.”

  I laughed, and shook my head. “Okay… since you know so much… what do you suggest instead?”

  “Massage,” she said simply.

  I nodded. “Okay… you have a suggestion for a spot, or…?”

  She shrugged. “Right here. Grab a mat.”

  �
��Excuse me?” I asked, confused, as she started past me, to the door. “Grab a mat?”

  “I’m a licensed massage therapist, so, yes. Grab your mat, and take off everything but your shorts… or the shorts too, if you want.” She said that like it was nothing, and grabbed the doorknob to open it.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, and she gave me a look like I was stupid.

  “Duh. To lock the door.”

  I didn’t know what was up with Astrid’s drastic demeanor shift, and I wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a setup for my own murder – while I was inexplicably concerned about her safety – but… if she was going to work that aggression out on my aching muscles, that was something I could handle.

  So I did as she said.

  I pulled out my mat, realizing as I looked around for the first time that this was a more private room than the bigger ones up front. Maybe for one on one practice, or maybe for a very small class, but either way, it was far from the open, group settings I’d been in before.

  The room was well lit, but Astrid lowered the lights as soon as she came back into the room, while I was taking my shoes off. She busied herself at one of the cabinets that lined the room while I stripped down to my shorts, and nothing else. She made no adjustment to the music before she lowered to her knees to a rolled towel beside me on the hardwood floor, putting several more towels and a bottle of massage lotion down beside her.

  “You ready?” she asked, in that same brisk voice from before, with no hint of her normal teasing.

  I pushed out a breath, and shrugged. “Yeah,” I told her. Why not?

  She nodded, and then handed me a pillow I hadn’t realized she had with her. “Okay. Turn to your stomach. Lie down.”

  I did as she asked, turning my head so that I was facing away from her. I could feel the shift in the air from her moving, but she hadn’t touched me yet when she asked, “Where are you feeling the most pain?”

  “Hamstrings. And shoulders. Calves, quads. Biceps.”

  “Damn, what doesn’t hurt?”

  Without looking up, I laughed. “Honestly? Not much.”

  “Mmm. Well… let’s see what we can do about that.”

  Sorcery, apparently, is what she intended to do about it. From the moment her oil-coated hands touched me, it was like the pain and stiffness melted away. There was nothing light about her touch – her fingers were skillful and steady, kneading rigid knots from my shoulders with a fluidity that, if I were a dog, would have had my damned tail wagging.

  It wasn’t long before my eyes drifted closed, and I was in paradise. Low lights, good music, beautiful woman giving a much-needed working-over to my hamstrings… I wondered how much this was going to cost me. Not that it mattered. I’d pay any price she named for the hands that had me feeling like I could get up and run a marathon right now.

  She was too good at this not to be charging money.

  “Why do you go by Eddie, instead of Edison?” she asked in a soft voice as she moved down to my calves. “You’re such a Type A, well put together man, even though your profession is out of the box. Edison just fits you better. Why don’t you use it?”

  Reluctantly, I peeled my eyes open.

  I could count on one hand the people around here – even among my friends – who knew I wasn’t an “Edward”. “Eddie” was how I’d… branded myself, for the longest time, and I didn’t feel any particular need to change it now, since that was how everybody knew me. But if I was faced with the same decision now…

  “It was stupid,” I admitted out loud, maybe because of the intoxicating effect of her hands. “I was young… thought it sounded feminine.” I shook my head. That wasn’t really it. “Thought it sounded “gay”. I was still piecing my identity out. Confused as hell. Stuck on proving I was a man, to myself, and everybody else. “Ed” sounded like a name I got in witness protection. “Edison” sounded like a pretty boy name, and in the environment I was in, being a pretty boy was as good as having a target on your back. “Eddie” was a good in-between. So that’s what I insisted on going by.”

  “But… you don’t still think that now, right?” she asked, moving on to my other calve.

  I shrugged. “Now… I don’t really give a shit. Looking back, it was probably pointless, cause I still got tested, but I only got my ass kicked one time. That was all it took. From then on, you talked shit to my face, you caught these hands. That was just how it had to be.”

  “Sounds tiresome.”

  “It was – why am I talking about this with you?” I asked out loud, more to myself than her, but she giggled.

  “I tend to have that effect on people. Turn over.”

  It took me a second. I was feeling so loose, and half drunk from the massage that I had to be deliberate about my movements. It wasn’t until I was on my back that I registered the fact that my dick was hard as a rock, and screaming for attention through my basketball shorts. Astrid smirked, then pushed up on her knees, beside me.

  “We’ll stretch, and then do your quads, and the front of your shoulders… okay?”

  I just nodded. More than anything, I was along for the ride.

  I tried my best not to give in to my filthy imagination as she performed the hamstring stretches on me, since that was one of the first things I’d mentioned as a problem. Once she let my legs down, to massage my quads, I was too swept up to even have thoughts, just feelings.

  And I was feeling like those soft, skillful fingers of hers were going further up my thighs than they needed to, but I wasn’t about to complain.

  It felt good.

  “What was up with you when I came in?” I asked her, and her hands stilled for a moment. “You know… since you asked me some personal shit, I figured I could at least return the favor.”

  She started moving again, fingers kneading into my quad a little harder. “Just… family stuff. Found out some news I didn’t want to hear.”

  “Your people okay?”

  “Yeah. Um… my sister’s boyfriend – ex boyfriend, for the second time now – is a childish asshole. Confirmed something that we already expected, while she’s… really not in a position to handle it right now. I’m thinking about going to stay with her for a while, just make sure she’s okay, but… that would involve putting my life on hold, which brings about a whole other list of considerations. I was working through my stress when you came in.”

  My eyes popped open just in time to meet hers as she stretched from where she was to massage my shoulder, working the same magic there that she had everywhere else.

  “My bad for messing up your stress relief,” I told her, holding her gaze.

  She ran her tongue over her lips. “It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll get a chance to work it out somehow. One way or another.”

  “One way or another?” I raised an eyebrow as she leaned over me to reach my other shoulder, instead of just going around to the other side of the mat. “Can’t you just pick up where you left off once I’m gone? With your handstand?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Takes a lot less time to just make myself come, and call it a day.”

  “Make yourself?”

  I didn’t know why I was doing that thing I hated, where every response was a question, but I was trying to gauge her, trying to figure her out.

  Her gaze came back to mine. “Yeah. Unless you’re offering your assistance,” she said, and I grunted as she suddenly straddled my waist, then leaned forward so that she had a hand on either shoulder. “Which would just be good manners at this point. Not only did you interrupt my shit, but I’ve given you this amazing massage. Helping me destress would be the least you could do.”

  “Asteroid,” I said, catching her by the hips as she pushed her body backward. I could feel the heat between her thighs against my stomach, through the thin ass shorts she was wearing, and I would bet good money she wasn’t wearing panties. “You can’t be playing like this, okay?”

  She moved her hands from my shoulders to the mat, then leaned
in so close that her lips were almost brushing mine. “Edison… what makes you think I’m playing?”

  In that moment, everything else was shut out. No thoughts, no sounds, nothing except her. Nothing except handfuls of her soft skin as I eased her slightly backward, to feel the reaction that she’d caused. Nothing except sweet-tasting lips, and a sweeter tongue as she lowered her head and I took the opportunity to devour her mouth. Nothing except the satisfaction of hearing her pleased whimper as my fingers sank into her ass cheeks.

  Nothing except the inexplicable certainty that this was long overdue.

  “You have protection?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “Always. My wallet is in my gym bag.”

  Her lips curved up in a smile as she sat back, reaching behind her for the bag. A few moments later, she placed one of the condoms on my bare chest.

  I hooked my hands behind my head, enjoying the show as she pulled her tank top over her head, confirming my suspicion that she wasn’t wearing a bra. My eyes traveled to areolas the same size and color as small black plums, in striking contrast to the rich, smooth brown of her breasts. There was zero shame as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her shorts and pulled them down in a slow, graceful motion before she stood in front of me, watching me watch her.

  From the look on her face, enjoying watching me watch her.

  Just when I didn’t think it was possible for her to be any sexier.

  While she was lowering herself back down to the floor, I rid myself of my shorts and boxers. She straddled me again, sitting on my stomach while she unwrapped the condom, and leaving a wet spot there when she rose up to roll the condom onto me. When she sank down onto me I groaned, and closed my eyes. Sex was sex, but shit… she felt good. Snug, and warm, and wet, and damn why was I avoiding this for so long?

  Her satisfied moan brought my gaze back to her face as she bit her lip, obviously enjoying herself as she found a rhythm on top of me. Her head fell back, hands planted on my stomach as she fell into a steady motion that was part rise and fall, part grind, and all the way… ridiculous.