I roll my head side to side, trying to ease the tension. My neck cracks both ways.
She winces. “Jesus. That was your spine crying for help.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“That doesn’t make it better, Dr. Preston.”
I huff a laugh. “I’ll survive.”
“Okay, so this is actually perfect.”
“I’m glad my pain suits you, Miss Thorne.”
She laughs, and it’s melodical.
“No, silly. This is how I prove to you that massages will make a big difference in your routine. And I’m not even that good at them.” She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table. Mia turns to me, but unfortunately, stops before her hands reach my shoulders. “Oh, wait. You need to tuck Lily in. Go do that and I’ll grab some oil from my room.”
Oh, this is going to end up badly. The best kind of bad.
* * *
Lily falls asleep in record time, and I can’t help wondering if that’s a sign. I make sure to close her door before I head down. When I get to the living room, there’s a new bottle on the coffee table. The label matches her shampoo. I can only hope the scent does, too. I rub sweaty hands on my pants. This is really happening.
I sit, spine straight, my back to Mia.
“Hmm…” The sound isn't quite steady, like even her voice is unsure if this is a good idea. “Would you… mind taking off your shirt? It just… kind of defeats the purpose of the massage if I’m wrestling fabric the whole time.”
This right here—this is the line we cross and can’t come back from. But I’m the one carrying torches and gasoline to erase it from existence. I’m the one lying awake in bed with ludicrous plans to launch that line into the stratosphere.
Shirt is off in a single pull.
Keeping my breath even is the first challenge of the night. I close my eyes and listen to the slick glide of oil warming between her palms.
She squeezes my shoulders too tight, fingers digging too deep.
I grunt.
A groan slips out next. Not the good kind.
Then I mutter, “Jesus.”
“What?” she asks.
I scrunch my shoulders, then wiggle to release the tension. “Let’s try a different technique, okay? This time, use the pads of your fingers, not the tips.” Thank goodness she’s a fast learner. “That’s it.” My shoulders drop instantly.
“Better?” Mia checks.
“So much. You can add aliiiittlemore pressure. Perfect.” I’m holding in moans instead of grunts now. “Focus on your thumbs. Start with small circles, then make them wider.” Mia works on my neck, then across the expanse of my shoulders.
“I like this oil you’re using, Mia. Smells just like your hair.” Her hands stutter for a millisecond—oh yeah, I notice. I wonder but keep it to myself not to throw her offagain, if it’s edible. I’d still lick it off her skin if it wasn’t. Hell, I’d do it even if it were poisonous.
“Ow.” It slips out as I flinch.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. There’s a bump there.”
I turn my head around and see her hands hovering. I take one and set it back on my skin. “It’s okay. It’s a tension knot. It’s where I need you the most.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. This is why you need a professional.”
