I still haven’t said anything—I don’t think I can speak—as I quickly drop the robe and get under the sheet on the table.
Why is John’s nearly naked body short-circuiting my mind? I couldn’t see all that last night after he turned the lights off. He’s easily the coolest person I’ve ever seen in my life, and the fact that I’m friends with him now makes me feel so special.
Now that I think about it, everything about John makes me feel special. He stood up for me last night, made sure I ate, and got back to the hotel safely. Even him handing me a cup of water first in the waiting room—it’s like he’s always casually looking out for me in ways that none of my other friends ever have. I really like it. A lot.
“You okay over there?” he asks, probably just as stunned by my lack of speech as I am.
“Yeah, you’re just… holy shit, John. You’re way more fit than I was expecting,” I blurt out.
“You jealous, Princess? Good thing we kept our underwear on, huh? Thought I was going to have to pick your jaw up for you,” he jokes, still just the two of us in the room.
He’s right. “Yeah, I think I would’ve passed out if I saw your dick on top of all those tattoos and muscles.”
“Uh-huh, and what about Blake’s dick?” he says, catching me completely off guard.
“What about it?”
“Well, you’re real touchy-feely with him, and you did ask for his permission to get naked.”
“Are you jealous?” I ask excitedly, because, oh mygod,John is gay.He’s completely avoiding eye contact with me right now! I have my face turned toward his table, but he’s staring into the little face hole on the massage pillow. Is he nervous? He totally sounds jealous about the possibility of me, what? Being naked with Blake? Does John want to be naked withme?
Physically, he’s like the ideal man, and I’m over here jealous that he casually walks around looking likethat. Could he be into me? Do I want him to be into me? Is all my casual touching and charming personality breaking down his walls?
“No,” he answers, but I think he’s lying, and just as I’m about to call him out, there’s a knock on the door. Fucking perfect timing.
I wish I could say “Never mind” because I suddenly need to know if John is attracted to me, but instead, I call out that we’re ready, turning my head back into the pillow as I hear footsteps approach us.
“Great, we can get started,” says the person who is by me.
“This is the first massage I’ve had in far too long,” I comment, making conversation even though I probably should be quiet, but hey, I paid for it so I feel like I can talk if I want. And I want to talk to John more. “What about you, John?”
“Never,” he says flatly, but I’m not deterred. If he really wants me to stop talking to him, he’ll tell me.
“Never?” I gasp. “But you work so hard at your job, you should get them at least monthly.”
“Not interested,” he grumbles.
“When’s your birthday? Maybe I can send someone to your house as a present,” I suggest, and then immediately hate that idea, picturing some hot guy showing up at John’s house, only for them to fall in love. Not sure why that bothers me so much. Maybe I could send a woman.
“No,” he mutters.
Well, that solves that problem!
“Is it a stranger-touching-you thing? No offense!” I turn to the masseuse, who chuckles. “Maybe I could learn some tips from today and I could do it,” I offer, liking that idea much better.
“Definitely not,” he dismisses almost instantly.
“So grumpy,” I tease him, but even though he’s prickly, I’m certain I’ve already worked my way into his heart, and it makes me emotional in the best way.
“I thought massages were supposed to be quiet,” John whispers. “Stop talking.”
Knew it. That’s fine. If John wants me to be quiet so he can get the full, relaxing experience, I can be quiet.
And maybe this massage will loosen him up so he can have a little more fun today.
7
JOHN
