Page 98

The truth is Noor bears the weight of making me a better person. It’s a responsibility she didn’t ask for and one she doesn’t need either. She almost didn’t survive it.

“Isla, my name is Tamara, and I’m going to take you to the locker room now,” her masseuse says with a warm smile. I checked us in using her fake name to keep up appearances. “You’ll be able to shower there, put on a robe, and lock your things up. It’ll be right this way.”

Noor gives me a quick glance of uncertainty before she follows Tamara. I take a deep breath as I follow my masseuse to the male locker room with my duffel bag, hoping this is a good experience for her. It’s a high end spa that’s known for being warm and inviting.

A teammate of mine has a sister who lives here who recommended it. Her best friend is actually Noor’s masseuse. Six degrees of separation can sometimes be a beautiful thing.

“Tamara is going to take care of her,” Patrick murmurs once I’m on the table and have my eyes closed.

“It’s really important to me that she’s treated well,” I sigh.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he promises. “Now turn off your brain and do nothing for the next ninety minutes.”

Taking a deep breath, I do exactly that because there’s nothing else to do.

Noor

This place is swanky. I’ve never been inside a spa before. Tamara mentioned we were the last appointments of the night, and I wonder if that’s done on purpose. Am I supposed to remain a secret for Draven?

I shouldn’t assume anything, because that’s gotten us into too many issues in the past.

“Please let me know if you need more or less pressure,” Tamara says, twitching the blanket over my legs to cover me. “This button will control the heat of the table. Click up for it to be warmer and down to make it cooler. Since it sounds as if heat can affect you negatively, I currently have the heat off. To turn the heat on, press the top button down firmly.”

She puts the button into my hand and I trace the buttons with my thumb to familiarize myself with them.

“Thank you,” I murmur. The rain shower earlier felt really good after a long day. I piled my hair on top of my head to keep it out of the water, and while I initially was reticent about it, I can see why there’s almost a ritual to the way they do things.

I’m feeling the knots of tension that I have from painting, walking to pick up Zayn, and then heading home to cook dinner for us. This is a later night than I usually have, and I can already feel my eyes beginning to close.

“It’s also totally normal to fall asleep.”

I almost tell her that I doubt I’ll do that. I have problems being vulnerable around strangers. It’s why I almost told Arran I didn’t want to go to the spa. However, I wanted to figure out the inner workings of Draven’s mind and why this was his choice for his date.

Tamara has incredible hands. My brain goes empty in the first twenty minutes of my massage, and I turn on the heat at a low temperature around that time because I start to get cold. A few minutes later, I fall asleep, and I am practically drooling by the time she has me turn over. She’s really gentle as she talks to me to wake me as she finishes, and she helps me sit up with a glass of water.

“Please drink all of that before you stand up,” she says. “There is absolutely no hurry. Your slippers and robe are waiting for you, and I’ll walk you back to the locker room to put on your bathing suit. At that point, I’ll hand you off into Draven’s very capable hands.”

I’m not sure I like the way she said that, but then, what girl wouldn’t want to be pampered by him? The guy is effortlessly handsome and has leaned into it as he’s gotten older. His dirty blonde hair is pushed out of his face in gentle waves, his piercing blue bedroom eyes seem to know all of your secrets, and he’s really fucking stacked from training.

Jocks have never done it for me, and I’ll continue to tell myself that lie. Draven is the quietest of my bullies, though no less brutal.

I’m quiet outside of thanking Tamara and drinking my water. I feel really relaxed. The knots in my neck particularly aren’t as tight anymore, and my hips feel looser. I sigh in contentment as I pull on my robe and cinch it at my waist. I’m slow to stand as I wait for any signs of discomfort, and sure enough I sit my ass right back down.

Welp. I guess I’ll have to try again in a second.

I’m fine in a couple of minutes, and Draven is waiting outside in his swim trunks, his brows pinched and his fingers twitching.

He’s worried. I know those signs.

“I’m okay,” I say, though I reach out for his arm without thinking. He pulls my hand through and holds it against his bicep and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Do you need a lift?”

“You’re not carrying me,” I laugh.

“Why not?” he asks, walking beside me. His footsteps are practically tiny as he mirrors mine.

Because I’m naked underneath here?!