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“Come here.”
I turn around and find TD pulling one of the kitchen chairs out from the table. “Umm, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’d rather sit in the living room. It’s more comfortable.”
He points to the chair. “Just for a few minutes. Promise.”
My eyebrows shoot for my hairline as I slowly make my way to where he stands. The chair is spun around, the back rest closer to the table than the seat, and when I reach out to turn it around, he stops me. “Have a seat, facing the table.”
I look at the chair again, no doubt the confusion written all over my face. “Why?”
“Trust me, El.” His voice is soft and calm, and I know without a shadow of a doubt, I do trust him completely.
I straddle the chair as instructed, feeling a little weirded out by the awkward position. This is how all the boys used to sit in chairs back when we were in school, and I’ve never found it particularly comfortable.
“Lean forward.” When I do as instructed, I feel his hands on my shoulders once more. All question and thought flies right out of my head as he starts to massage my achy muscles again.
I have no idea how long I sit here, TD rubbing my shoulders, neck, and back, but it’s heaven. That’s the only way to describe it. I try to breathe normally, but it’s difficult. Mostly because it feels too damn good to be massaged like this, but also simply because it’s TD’s hands on me. Sure, he’s touched me before, but never like this. Never has he dug his fingers into my flesh, working out the knots and bringing me so much relief. And the crazy part is I like it.
A lot.
Too much so.
I can feel my nipples pebbled against my bra, a wave of wetness dampening my panties. I imagine his hands sliding down my back, cupping my rear. I think about them gliding around my waist, his big fingers angling to where I ache for his touch the most. I picture his mouth on my neck and my ears as he continues to touch me everywhere.
“You’re tensing,” he whispers, gently gliding his hands over my lower back and sides.
“Ticklish,” I reply, even though that’s not the reason. Yes, I’m ticklish, but that’s the furthest from the issue right now.
The truth is I’m turned on.
Badly.
Trapped between wanting his hands on me for as long as I can get them and needing him to stop because I’m afraid the invisible line in the sand might be crossed.
A door opens in the hallway, breaking the spell I fell under. TD’s hands pause before dropping from my back, and he clears his throat quickly. “Better?” he asks, taking a step back. I can feel the sudden distance between us instantly.
I nod, refusing to turn around. “Thank you.”
“Go take a long hot shower and put your feet up,” he says, already moving toward the exit.
“I will.”
“Good.” I hear the door open and his heavy footsteps pause. “Good night, Ellie.”
“Night, TD,” I whisper, risking a quick glance over my shoulder to where he stands. “Thank you for dinner.”
He nods, the tension lines streaking around his eyes ebbing just slightly. “You’re welcome.”
And then he’s gone, disappearing through the door and exiting the building as if his ass were on fire.
Sighing, I stand up and right the chair before walking over to the door and throwing the lock. I don’t need to secure the other one at the base of the steps. I know TD already did it on his way out.
I can’t believe I let myself get all worked up like that.
Over my friend.
Especially when he clearly didn’t feel the same. It was obvious he was uncomfortable and ready to leave. I don’t know what I did to cause such discomfort, but I need to remember to keep this pesky little crush buried as deep as I can. Nothing good can come of me wishing for him to finally see me as someone other than Ellie, his friend.
TD is my friend and only my friend.
