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As I dug around in the pack and found my phone, he said, “Admit it—that belt bag is a real lifesaver.”
“Yes, the fanny pack has proven to be spectacular. Let’s bring it every time we run from the police.”
Aleksei leaned over and stuck his head out of the alcove, so he could keep a lookout while I tried to decide who to call. A moment later, he quickly straightened up and said, “We need to hide, because there’s a police car driving down the alley. It’s a block away and moving slowly, and I’m sure they’re not looking for us in particular. But let’s not risk getting arrested for public indecency.”
We snuck out of the alcove and darted across a parking lot to an adjacent building, which turned out to be a church. The back door was unlocked, so we ducked inside and found ourselves in a hallway, with a kitchen to our left and an office on the right. Fortunately, no one was around.
As I typed something into my phone, Aleksei asked, “Are you requesting a ride share or a cab?”
“Neither. Nobody’s going to want my bare ass on their back seat.”
“So, who are you messaging?”
“I’m asking one of my housemates to pick us up and bring us some clothes.” A message popped up, and I told him, “Lark says he can come get us, but I don’t know the address.”
“Me, neither.” He took my phone and pulled up the massage parlor’s website to show me the information. “You can tell him it’s two blocks from this place.” After I texted Lark and directed him to the parking lot behind the church, I went back to check out the website. Aleksei said, “It seems perfectly innocent, right?”
“Well, not entirely. They say they offer sensual massages, and there’s a mention of happy endings.”
Aleksei looked confused. “I saw that, but doesn’t it just mean you’re left feeling satisfied? And aren’t all massages sensual, by virtue of the fact that someone is putting their hands on your skin?”
I shook my head. “A happy ending is when a masseuse concludes a massage by making their client come, usually with a hand job.”
“Since when?”
“Pretty much since the invention of hand jobs.” I smiled at him and said, “See how educational it is to hang out with me?”
“It is, and I guess I’m pretty clueless.” When I shivered a little, he put his arms around me and murmured, “Here, let me warm you up.”
“I’m fine, but I’ll never turn down some cuddling.”
We remained huddled together for the next several minutes, until I got a text and told Aleksei, “Our ride’s out back.”
As we started to leave, I heard someone exclaim, “Oh my!”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw a little nun of about sixty, staring at my bare butt with a gleeful expression on her round face. I blurted, “Sorry, sister,” before rushing out the back door.
“I just mooned a nun,” I told Aleksei, as we hurried across the parking lot. “Weirdly enough, she seemed to enjoy it.”
“Well, sure. It’s a truly great ass, and—wait, is that our ride?”
A vintage stretch limo was idling in the alley, painted in a vivid rainbow from end to end. Lark popped out of the sunroof and waved, and I said, “Why, yes. Yes, it is.”
Then the side door slid open, and Nana Dombruso stuck her head out and yelled, “Hurry up, before you get busted by the po-po! They’re all over this neighborhood, like ants on a picnic basket.” She turned her attention to Aleksei, ogling him and murmuring, “Oh my,” as he held his towel in place and climbed into the back of the limo.
I climbed in after him and scooted around so I didn’t turn my back on Nana, and she asked, “What happened to your clothes? Not that I’m complaining.” Her eyes were still glued to Aleksei’s broad chest.
“We were at a massage parlor, and we think it got raided, so we ran for it.” I gestured from one to the other and said, “Stana Dombruso, meet Aleksei Volkov.”
“Call me Nana,” she said. “And it’s a real shame the cops are such a buzz kill.”
I introduced Dylan, who was behind the wheel, and then Lark, who explained, “We were at Nana’s when you texted, helping get stuff ready for a fundraiser. Her great grandson Josh gave me some clothes when I explained you were running around naked, but I didn’t realize Aleksei’s built like the Brawny paper towel man, so they might be a tight fit.”
They definitely were. It was funny to watch Aleksei wriggle into the sweatpants while trying to keep his towel in place, especially with Nana gawking at him. He managed it though, and even wedged himself into the T-shirt while I put on a matching—but baggy on me—outfit.
Once we were dressed, he clipped on the fanny pack and positioned it to hide the very obvious outline of his junk while I told my friends, “Thank you for rescuing us. We’ll be sure to return the clothes, and we really appreciate all of this.”
