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They were both staring at me, and a tingle of awareness ran down my spine. The very beautiful Spanish-appearing guy had his mouth hanging open and his eyes below my chin. The gorgeous woman, lightly brown with a mane of black curls, leaned forward, biting her lip and smiling. My sex-dar was buzzing. Possibly I was imagining it, but I thought they both wanted me alone in a room, for more than a massage.
Maybe the frumpy-college-girl look had more going on than I’d imagined. Was she more approachable perhaps? Ordid I project frustrated sex addict even with the floral button-up blouse?
I’d been back and forth in my head the entire drive about committing to Hank. My disturbed marriage had flipped a switch in me, and it was hard to turn off. Lust addict—perhaps that was a better description for me. I didn’t want sex with everyone but sometimes you run into a person that makes your insides melt and your skin bake.
Hank wasn’t there. If we were together, that would have been more than enough. Also, I knew I’d tell him if something happened, and I dreaded that fiercely.
“Hi,” I said and veered toward the man. There was something about him that had my skin prickling and it was more than his spectacular looks. “I was hoping you had a last-minute cancelation or something and might be able to squeeze me in? I’m here tonight and tomorrow morning.”
He smiled tightly at me, his eyes bright and a little color in his face. “Is that a couple’s massage or a single?”
“Just me.” He was staring down at my ring finger, which was bare. “I’ve been driving all day and have further to go tomorrow. My shoulders are killing me.”
He inhaled a sharp breath. “Yes, I can squeeze you in.”
Another person walked in and then went through a door with the woman. My therapist leaned across the counter toward me. I hadn’t decided to do anything yet.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When we were alone in the room, everything changed. I kept smiling at him, not moving away.
He touched my empty ring finger with the pencil. “Did you say you were single?”
“I’m here alone,” I said to the model of a man who was in front of me, on the other side of the counter, posing as a massage therapist. Did the guy hop down to LA to film Armani ads? The business cards in a little stand in front of him said Javier Flores.
He groaned softly, a lock of wavy dark brown hair falling over his forehead. “You are so beautiful. This is a hard thing for me to understand.”
Hank. Hank. Hank. Be a cautious and wary person,kept echoing in my head. He was the only one in my heart too—and yet, part of me had been caged up for the last three years and I wanted to stretch. He was so far away and not, technically, my boyfriend.
“I’m on my way to college,” I said, giving in enough that I leaned forward. There was a touch of expensive cologne about him, under the layers of almond oil.
He brushed his pencil over my fingers, our faces inches apart across the counter. “Well, I can do a private massage this evening, after I finish with my next client. Will you meet me in the bar at seven thirty?”
I straightened. “Come and look for me. I might be there.”
He bit his bottom lip. The door opened behind me and he stood up, smiling professionally. “Hello,” he said. “You must be my six o’clock appointment.”
I walked by the lake for the next twenty minutes, holding my shoes and letting the water splash over my feet. Hank still hadn’t called me, and I was glad. I wished he was there to be furious and pin me to our bed, pound into me until I was screaming his name. I texted him.
Sally: At Lake Tahoe, tired and sore from driving all day. Talk to you tomorrow.
Blowing out my breath, I turned off my phone. I could still change my mind, I told myself. I ordered room service, and three bottles of wine, just in case I needed them.
At seven thirty, I was in the bar. Javier was on time. “Are you sure you should be here?” I asked him. “You’re not really single either, I’m betting.”
He smiled, putting an arm behind my back. “Like you?”
I sighed. “I haven’t promised but I should have. Long distances are difficult.”
“Sometimes they aren’t so bad. I am here because LA is too hot in August. My partners, they know this about me, that sometimes I need a break.” His fingers brushed through the ends of my hair.
Of course, he was one of those alternative types with a complex living arrangement. I sipped my wine and watched his face. Cold aloof eyes stared back at me. He took my wine glass out of my hands and put it on the table. Then he leaned forward slowly until our lips brushed.
“What about this, Bella,” he whispered into my ear. “I will touch you if you touch me?”
I folded my hands and put them on the table. Was I really doing this? “I’m actually a very practical person, Javier. You arrive prepared. And I want my massage, on a table. When I’m tired, we say goodnight.”
He sat up straight, blinking. “Okay.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Anything else?”
