I started with steady pressure, thumbs working into the arch of her foot, slow and deliberate. She sighed again, this time louder, her toes curling instinctively. I adjusted, listening to her body more than her words, easing the tension out little by little.
Elise watched me for a moment, then her eyes fluttered closed. “You’re spoiling me.”
I looked up at her, a small smile tugging at my mouth. “You danced for hours. This feels fair.”
Her foot relaxed fully in my hands, and I moved to the other one, repeating the motion, careful and unhurried. She hummed softly, her body going slack against the cushions as I worked.
I kept going, working my thumbs deeper, slower now, drawing it out. Her skin was warm, relaxed beneath my hands, and every quiet sound she made felt like a reward. I dragged my fingers up to her ankle, kneading gently, then back down again, paying attention to every shift in her breathing.
Elise peeked at me through half-lidded eyes. “You’re being suspiciously attentive.”
I glanced up. “That a complaint?”
“No,” she responded quickly, lips curving. “Just an observation.”
I stilled my hands just long enough to look at her properly. “I don’t need an excuse to take care of you.”
“Mmhmm.” She shifted, drawing her knees closer to her chest, making it harder for me to keep my composure. “Then why do I feel like I’m being buttered up?”
I resumed the massage, firmer this time. “Maybe I just like the way you sound when you relax.”
She watched my hands for a moment, then her gaze drifted back to my face. “So,” she says casually, “How are things going with Darryl?”
That got my attention in a different way. I shifted slightly, still holding her foot, thumbs slowing but not stopping. “Good. Really good.”
Her brows lifted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, the excitement slipping in before I could temper it. “He’s raw, but he listens. That's rare. Most artists want success without discipline. Darryl wants to learn the business, the sound, the longevity.” I moved my hands up to her ankle again, talking as I worked. “We’re building his image carefully. No rushing singles just to chase a chart position. I want him to have a career, not a moment.”
Elise smiled. “You sound really happy.”
“I am,” I admitted. “I see the future for him. Albums, tours, growth. The kind of artist people respect ten years from now. It reminds me why I started all of this in the first place.”
Her smile deepened, and she relaxed further into the couch, her foot warm and trusting in my hands as I kept massaging, the conversation settling into an easy quiet that feels just as good as the words.
The food arrived not long after. I tipped the delivery boy before bringing everything back into the kitchen, where Elise was already waiting. We work together easily, unpacking containers, splitting portions without much discussion. Sheclaimed the lo mein. I took the extra rice. We divided the wings evenly.
“Living room,” she decided, already carrying plates in that direction.
By the time I returned with glasses for our drinks, the television displayed an early 2000s romance movie on its screen. Familiar actors and actresses. Dialogue I recognized against my will.
How to Lose a Guy in 10 days.
I stopped short and sighed.
Elise looks over her shoulder, immediately pouting. “Baby.”
“We’ve watched this already.”
“It’s been a while.” She argued.
“It was last weekend.” I deadpanned.
She set the remote down and turned fully toward me, knees tucked beneath her. “Please. I promise I won’t drool over how hot Matthew McConaughey is.” The last time the two of us watched this movie, Elise was not shy about vocalizing how attractive the lead actor was. I had to point out to her that the movie was filmed over twenty years ago and the actor was happily married, but she carried on, mumbling something about if only she was born twenty years earlier. Needless to say, I was counting down the minutes until the movie was over.
“That’s not the point.” Elise reached out, hooking a finger into my belt loop to stop me from moving. “This movie is a classic.”
“Try again.”
