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He points to my right knee. I nod again, suddenly tongue tied. He runs his hand up my leg, stopping at the kneecap when I wince. He just barely skimming over my surgical scars but I almost writhe. His clever fingers trace where I fractured my knee and the plates and screws just under the new scar tissue there.
“This must have really hurt,” he rumbles.
I nod, heaving a sigh when his touch moves upward. Keir probes the ligaments above my knee, then runs his touch up to my quad muscle. My breath catches and I pull away.
“It hurts here?” He asks it lightly, but his gaze is direct and intense.
“Yes,” I say, my teeth clenched.
“Can I try something? I want to massage it for a minute.”
I shake my head. “You’re busy. Isla is waiting—”
“Shh.” He starts rubbing my quad in small, tight circles.
It honestly feels like he’s jabbing me with sharp, hot knives instead of just his hands.
“Ah!” I gasp. “Keir…”
“If it doesn’t help after a minute, I’ll stop.” He presses harder, moving his hands faster. My other leg muscles lock up because it feels like he’s rubbing sharp shards of glass into my knee. Just as I am about to push him off, something shifts.
My quad muscle contracts one final time, then the tension lessens. I widen my eyes and look at Keir’s hands massaging my flesh. Incrementally, the muscle grows warmer and loses tone. I let out a sigh of relief; the muscle is no longer locked up so tightly. It still hurts, but I can at least bend my knee with ease now.
“Wow. It feels… better.”
His massage style changes to long smoothing strokes and his lips twitch. “That’s good. I used to get these intense muscle aches when I was running an ultramarathon. My masseuse told me to try that on myself. It definitely helped. At least, it made it possible to walk after a particularly intense day of training.”
His hands keep kneading my flesh. On impulse, I lean close and kiss him, my mouth brushing over his. He seems taken aback by it at first, as though he wasn’t sure how to be kissed as opposed to kissing someone.
But Keir eventually allows me to kiss him. Only for half a minute, though. Then he pulls back, patting my thigh awkwardly.
“I should go. I promised Isla.”
I arch a brow. Have I embarrassed him? The thought makes me grin.
“Should I come to your room later?” I suggest.
He blinks. “That would… be welcome.”
“Thanks for the massage.”
He turns away, waving the words back toward me as he heads out the door. It’s funny, but I’ve never seen Keir without a barb or a quip prepared.
My phone chirps. I pick it up, expecting a text from Kaia or Joy. But instead, I find a text from a weird international number.
Hey! It’s Saffron. Got a minute to video chat?
I call the number, insanely curious how she got my number. She picks up, beaming from ear to ear.
“Hello! I hope I’m not interrupting your bedtime. I know people have rituals to follow before they go to sleep.”
“You’re not cutting into anything. I’m still up stretching. I haven’t even wrapped my hair yet.”
“Okay, great. Because I have some serious gossip to tell you. Not actually even gossip… verifiable facts.”
I squint at her. “All right. Well, lay it on me.”
“I dug into our friend Natasha’s past.” She narrows her eyes, her lips curving. “Natasha Simon? She doesn’t exist.”
