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“Precisely.” He nodded toward her kneading hands. “You know it feels way better if you let someone else do that for you.”
She lowered her hands from her neck. “I’m good.”
“Come on. Sit on the floor, and I’ll help you out.”
“Pike.”
“Don’t get all excited. I didn’t say there was a happy ending involved.” He gave her a playful waggle of his eyebrows. “But do you have any idea how strong a drummer’s hands are? And this one’s been shattered and rebuilt into a bionic one. There’s magic in these here fingers, woman.”
“Your humility overwhelms me.”
He pointed to the floor. “Sit.”
She checked her phone. Her brother would be calling any minute to give her the green light to head his way. What could it hurt? She lowered herself to the floor. “Fine. But hands must stay above collarbone.”
“Yes, mistress. I like it when you get bossy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you really break your hand?”
“No. My mom’s boyfriend did it for me.” He said it offhanded, like he was announcing he’d fallen off his bike as a kid or something. He climbed over the back of the love seat and settled in the spot behind her, his knees on each side of her head.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, I told you my mother’s taste in men sucked. She was like catnip for assholes. But in the end, the injury altered my drumming style, which gave me a unique technique and made me stand out. So screw him.”
“That’s awful.” Her stomach wrenched at the cruelty. A child’s hand—shattered. She wasn’t naive enough to think those things didn’t happen. She’d seen her fair share of stuff working at Bluebonnet, but her heart broke for that young version of Pike nonetheless.
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I survived, mama. Don’t stress. And it gifted me with excellent massaging ability. You don’t realize how lucky you’re about to get. Just sit back and behold the greatness.”
She could tell he was deflecting, changing the subject. She let him. She had a feeling he hadn’t meant to share that much.
“I will do my best to behold.” But she didn’t have to try hard. The minute his hands squeezed her shoulders, she groaned aloud.
“Damn, woman, you’re like stone.” He ran his thumbs over her knotted muscles, sending hurts-so-good sensations through her. “You sure you’re not moonlighting as a linebacker?”
“You know what I’m moonlighting as.” She closed her eyes. “And that feels amazing.”
“Don’t say that in that sexy voice,” he warned, leaning close to her ear. “Makes me think about other ways to get you to say those words. Because it would be amazing. So. Amazing.”
“Pike, you promised,” she said, but there wasn’t much oomph behind it. His massaging fingers were too good, making it hard to muster up any annoyance. The simple indulgence of being touched by a man intent on making her feel good was pleasure in and of itself, making her acutely aware of how little physical contact she had with anyone outside of Reagan these days.
He traced his thumbs along her spine to the nape of her neck, making small, wondrous circles along the way. “I know, but I think we have an issue that needs to be discussed.”
She let her head loll forward. “What’s that?”
“After what happened in the parking lot today, I think we both need to admit that the phone calls aren’t working for us.”
“Mmm,” she said, losing herself in the bliss of loosening muscles. “Yes. We need to stop doing that.”
“Agreed. Wholeheartedly.”
She lifted her head, a little surprised at his emphatic agreement. After the kiss, she’d been planning to tell him that they had to quit messing around, that it was getting too intense, but she hadn’t expected him to be the one to bring it up first. “Well … good, then. We’re on the same page.”
His fingertips made their way into her hair, kneading her scalp with near-orgasmic results. “Yep. We definitely need to do this in person.”
She straightened and whirled around, his fingers knotting in her hair for a second. She pulled free. “What?”
He sat back, his expression frank. “That’s not what you were going to suggest?”
