I didn’t dare ask if it was my declaration that had scared her.
“That felt so good. Can you keep massaging my shoulders?” she asked.
“Sure.” I turned her and resumed working the knots out of her shoulders. “The other places I want to massage you will feel even better.”
She laughed, which drew glances from Serena and Grace nearby.
I shrugged as if I had no idea what the joke was.
Peyton twisted around again. “I could use some wine.” After running for who-knew-how-long, it was likely difficult to sit still and just think about whatever or whomever had scared her so much.
When the others looked away, I leaned over to make my latest attempt at guessing her background. “Are you a podiatrist?”
She pulled my head down. “Physical therapist.”
I nodded as I straightened up. “I was close.”
“Hardly.” She scoffed. “No podiatrist in her right mind wants to swap paychecks with me. Now, where’s that wine?”
Peyton had downed two glasses by the time Duke finally arrived with a stack of pizza boxes.
“Hey, Snuggles, you wanna help with these while I get the liquid refreshments?” He handed the pizzas off to Serena, and Grace jumped up to help.
Jordy passed paper plates around.
The hungry group got a little too rowdy for me as they all jostled to get the slices they wanted. “Keep it down, guys. We don’t want to disturb Mrs. Polluck next door. Upsetting the landlady is never a good idea.”
The soundproofing between our units was good, but not perfect.
As the group calmed, Peyton offered me her empty glass for another refill.
“Maybe you should slow down on that.”
I thought I’d been gentle, but her scowl said otherwise. “You have no idea how stressful this is.”
I nodded. When I returned with her refill, I almost spilled it as she wrapped herself around me. “I want to get my life back,” she said.
Holding her tight, I nodded. “Lean on me. Together, we’ll make that happen.”Just so long as a return to Boston isn’t integral to that plan. That was a fear I didn’t verbalize. I didn’t want to let this woman go.
Duke returned with a box containing beer and sodas.
I chose ginger ale for myself.
Peyton grabbed a longneck beer to go along with her wine. Yeah, she was stressed.
When everyone had food and drink, Lucas spoke. “Okay, Peyton. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell us all the story?”
Peyton
Zane’s armmoved protectively around me.
I swallowed. There would be no more hiding behind meek words. The glasses of wine had helped, but still, being the lioness was hard. “I come from Boston, where I was a physical therapist. The man I’m running from is called the Boyfriend Strangler.”
Several gasps sounded around the room.
“That’s heavy,” Winston added.
“You mentioned Atlanta?” Grace asked.
