“Oh, nothing. Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“Is there anything I can do to make it feel better?” he asks, setting his phone back on the arm of the sofa.
“Unless you have some magic cure for back pain, then no, but thanks.”
“I could give you a massage,” he says.
“Shut! Up!”Mia Thermopolis shouts on the television screen, almost in response.
Took the words out of my mouth, Mia.
My head flips toward him, and he’s just sitting there with his goofy smile, shrugging.
“What did you say?”
“A massage? I’m not trying to be weird or whatever you’re thinking. I just figured a back rub might help you feel better.”
“Oh, right, yeah of course that’s what you meant. I knew that, but you don’t have to.”
“Wren, I really don’t mind. Come on, let me make you feelgood.” His voice is a little gravely—sexy even—and my mind shifts to a place it shouldn’t.
“Make me feel good?” I repeat a little breathless as blush creeps up my neck and paints my face.
“Shit, well I just meant, like, massages feel good,” he clarifies. “Do you want one or not?”
“Yeah, a massage would be great,” I say, turning so I’m facing away from him. I move my hair out of the way and feel his body close in behind me.
His hands squeeze my shoulders and begin to move down my back. “Where does it hurt?” he asks.
“It’s my lower back,” I say, swallowing hard.
This doesn’t feel like a massage from a friend, and, fuck, I should move away. I really should move away, but despite my better judgment, I like the effect it’s having, and I don’t want him to stop.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his hands gliding downward and across the small of my back, relieving some of the tension that’s there.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Good…if it’s too much or whatever, you can tell me to stop.”
“No, it’s perfect.” I let my body relax, and he continues to rub up and down, applying the perfect amount of pressure. His hands feel huge, and I know there’s a sweatshirt between us, but everywhere he touches, my skin ignites. He rubs along my lower back again, and his fingers trail the hem of sweatpants.
I let out a loud moan and immediately cover my mouth with my hand.
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
His hands freeze, and I don’t move. He clears his throat and jumps up so quickly that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face him again. His bedroom door closes behind me, and I let my hand fall from my face.
Grabbing for my phone, I swipe up.
The Tortured Therapists Department
I think I fucked up.
Lacey:
What happened?
Have y’all ever gotten a back massage from a friend?
