All I Want Is You, page 12
Maybe he was just scared. Maybe with all the career changes and life changes he’s going through, this relationship was just too much for him.
My forehead furrows as I type my response. That’s a cop-out.
I think it’s a valid emotion, he types back. Also, there are so many layers to this from his perspective. He’s got the weight of his family’s expectations, plus the pressure of living up to these new career demands.
So that makes it okay for him to dump her without an explanation?
It doesn’t make it okay, Jess, but that’s not what we’re doing here. We’re uncovering the reasons why they split, not defending their choices.
He’s right, not that I would ever say—let alone type—those words. This isn’t about our opinions on our characters’ breakup, it’s about giving their story depth of feeling.
I’m going to take a break, he tells me before signing off, and it doesn’t escape me that once again Nick is walking away right as things are getting emotional.
I check the time and see that I need to get a move on as well if I want to be on time for my massage. I head back up to the room, needing a shower before I let some stranger put their hands all over my body. I say a quick prayer outside the door that Nick has vacated the room and somehow we just missed each other down in the lobby.
For once, the gods or the Fates or whoever the hell is in charge these days seem to be on my side. The room is blissfully empty when I peek inside. I’m tempted to take another bath, but two in the span of twelve hours might be a lot, even for me. My skin is going to be pure prunes by the time I finally get out of this hotel.
I let the warm water run over me, turning up the heat until my skin flushes bright pink under the stream. I use the time to try to center myself and anchor my thoughts. Make sure I remember the difference between fact and fiction, between what’s happening between our characters and what’s happening between us.
Because there’s nothing happening between us, and that’s how it’s going to stay.
I would hope that if Nick had returned to the room while I was in the shower, he would have knocked on the closed bathroom door to let me know, but I still tiptoe into the room fully dressed after my shower, just in case. Luckily, he still hasn’t returned, and since it’s almost time for my massage, I head back to the lobby, thankful we seem to keep missing each other today. It might not be the kind of space I really need from him, but it’s space nonetheless and I’ll take what I can get.
An unfamiliar person at the front desk directs me to the spa the back way, since the main path to the building requires going outside and I have zero desire to do that. I check in at the front desk of the spa and am directed to the locker room to change into the soft and cozy robe I find waiting for me in an assigned locker. The changing room is quiet and peaceful, and I allow myself a few moments to breathe before I slip my feet into the spa-issued sandals and head into the waiting area.
“Jessica?” The deep voice of my masseur startles me, even though he’s kept the volume down to preserve the sanctity of the spa.
“That’s me,” I squeak, as I take in the behemoth of a lumberjack in front of me.
He’s huge, at least six foot five, with muscles bulging out of the scrubs-like uniform he wears. His long hair is tucked into a man bun that I should hate but really don’t, and despite my general aversion to bushy facial hair, I’ve never seen a beard more attractive than the one on his perfect face.
I gird my loins, wait for the attraction to hit me, wait for my reserved-for-flirting smile to take over my face, but there’s nary a stirring down in the nether regions.
Hmm.
Wonder what that is all about.
“I’m Jake, I’ll be your massage therapist today. If you’d like to follow me, your partner has already checked in for your couples massage.”
I’m so enraptured by the timbre of his voice, it takes me almost a full minute of following him down a long hallway before I register what he just said. “Wait a minute, did you say a ‘couples massage’? I didn’t ask for a couples massage. I couldn’t, as I am not currently a member of a couple. Who could even be coupled with me for a couples massage?”
My word vomit stops the minute Jake opens the door to the treatment room and I see the other half of this nightmare.
Nick stands next to a massage table, dressed in a matching robe and sandals. The robe has come open at the chest, leaving his smattering of chest hair and defined pecs on full display. Probably for the benefit of the drop-dead gorgeous woman standing next to him, dressed in a uniform identical to Jake’s.
Nick’s eyes go wide when he sees me, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything to put a stop to the madness.
“Excuse me, but I think there’s been some kind of mistake. This was supposed to be an individual massage.” I turn pleading eyes to Jake, who exchanges a glance with his supermodel counterpart.
Jake pulls out a tablet and taps a few clicks on the screen. “You are Jessica, correct? Staying in room 323?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“And you’re Nick, also staying in room 323?”
Nick nods, and I urge him with my eyes to speak up and freaking do something, but he ignores me.
“We are sharing a room,” I continue to protest-slash-explain, “but we are not a couple. Can my treatment be moved to a separate room?” There is no way I can lay next to Nick, naked and separated by a mere few inches, for the next fifty minutes while Jake’s massive hands knead the stress from my body.
“Unfortunately, all of our other rooms are booked. And Chelsea and I specialize in couples massage. It would be difficult to change the program at this point.”
I shoot daggers at Nick. Is he smiling? What the fuck could he possibly find funny about this hellhole of a situation? This might be worse than waking up next to him in bed.
“Come on, Jess.” He finally breaks his silence. “It’s just a little massage. How bad could it be?”
Chapter Fourteen
Nick
I put on my smirkiest of smirks, but on the inside, I’m about to go into full-throttle meltdown mode. When I asked Hilary to book me a massage, this is not what I had in mind. How the fuck am I supposed to relax with Jess lying six inches away from me, completely naked while another man rubs his hands all over her body?
But she’s so utterly freaked out by the idea of this couples massage that I feel like I have no choice but to pretend like it’s no big deal. Like I want nothing more than to watch someone else lotion up his hands and work the kinks from her shoulders.
I swallow thickly.
She glares at me.
I realize too late this is the second time in as many days that I’ve pushed her into something she doesn’t want to do. I open my mouth to let Chelsea know I don’t need a massage after all. Let Jess have her moment with Jason Momoa’s twin brother, even though the thought makes me want to hurl.
But Jess speaks before I can. “Now that I’ve had a second to think about it, a couples massage sounds great. Should we take our robes off now?”
Something seems to have lodged itself permanently in my throat because no matter how many times I swallow, I can’t seem to catch my breath.
Chelsea and Jake exchange a round of nervous glances.
Finally, Chelsea clears her throat. “We’ll step outside so you can disrobe in private. Take your time and get comfortable on the massage tables. We’ll have you start face down, please.”
The two therapists scamper from the room, and I can only imagine the conversation they’re having about us in the hallway.
The door clicks shut and Jess immediately turns up the heat on her glare. “I cannot believe you! How can you be so nonchalant? I can think of nothing I want less than to have a fucking couples massage with you!” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, and it’s so cute I almost make a life-ending mistake and smile. “Just because we’re writing this book together doesn’t mean things can just go back to the way they were, Nick.”
“I know that, but this appears to be a genuine misunderstanding.” I shrug like my heart isn’t pounding out of my chest, like this stupid massage didn’t just destroy whatever progress we’ve made. “We’re here, and there’s nothing we can do about it now, so we might as well try to relax and enjoy.”
And since we’re here about to get a fucking couples massage, then now is the time for me to take full advantage of the situation, make the next move in this undeclared, sexual-tension-laden chess match we’ve been engaged in over the past few days, starting with that fuck-me red dress. I move my hands slowly toward the belt of my robe, making my intentions clear and giving her plenty of time to turn away. She wants to leave her lacy red bra and thong draped over the shower door for me to find in the morning? Well, two can play this game.
The pulse flutters in her neck and the internal debate plays out over her face. Her eyes drop to my waist, and if she wants a show, well, I don’t plan on denying her.
This attraction between us has been flaring since the moment I saw her. For the past three days, I’ve had nothing but reminders of how my body reacts to hers, longs for hers, aches for hers.
And as much as she tries to hide it, I know she wants me too.
I let my robe hit the floor.
She sucks in a little breath, a hint of a gasp.
At some point she gives up the ruse and straight up ogles me, her eyes tracing over my chest, down to my feet, then back up, lingering for so long on my dick that I’m half-hard by the time her gaze travels back to my face.
I arch one eyebrow in a silent challenge.
Her hands flutter around the tie of her own robe, but she hesitates, and the last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable. This game we’re playing is a dangerous one, and I don’t want to push her so far that she quits before I’ve won.
I slip between the sheets of my massage table and turn my head in the opposite direction. I hear the soft whomp of her robe hitting the floor and have to reach down to adjust myself at the sound of her skin sliding against the sheets.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I take that as my cue and turn my cheek to face her. Which is a mistake because she is right there, close enough that it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between our mouths. And from the soft look in her deep brown eyes, I don’t think she would stop me.
A knock on the door keeps that thought from intruding further.
Jake and Chelsea reenter the room, each of them coming to one of our sides. There’s some adjusting of blankets, and Chelsea puts some kind of pillow underneath my feet.
“Normally, we incorporate some relationship exercises into our session, to help our couples connect with both body and mind.” Chelsea’s voice is soothing, so quiet and peaceful she probably puts many clients to sleep. “Would you like us to skip those exercises today?”
I’m about to tell her she absolutely should, but Jess answers first. “Actually, I think we could really benefit from some of those exercises, to really help us get in touch with our emotions. Don’t you think, Nick?”
This time I’m the one glaring, and if this is supposed to be payback for the free show I just put on, well, that would mean she would have to be pretending like she didn’t love every second of it.
“Nothing I love more than getting in touch with my emotions,” I grind out from between gritted teeth.
“Fantastic!” Chelsea exclaims in her melodic voice. “Let’s get started.”
Chelsea’s warm hands land on my shoulders a few seconds later, slick with some kind of oil that smells like eucalyptus and lemon. My eyes flutter closed, happy to have a reason to not have to stare directly at Jess. Looking at her this close is like looking directly into the sun. I don’t mean to let the groan escape when Chelsea digs into the knots of my upper back, but it slips out anyway. I spend my days sitting in front of a computer; my back is a wreck.
For a few minutes, there’s quiet, nothing but the sounds of the ethereal music and the occasional brush of movement as Chelsea and Jake continue our massages.
Then Chelsea breaks the silence, and even her soothing voice isn’t enough to make what’s going to happen next any easier. “Why don’t we start with each of you saying one thing you admire about the other?”
I pry my eyes open in time to catch the regret flashing through Jess’s eyes. I smirk, because she brought this on herself. She wanted to “get in touch with our emotions” and now she’s going to be forced to say nice things about me.
“I’ll go first,” I volunteer, because I know it will annoy her even further. “The easy compliment would be to point out the obvious—Jess is nothing short of gorgeous. But really, part of what makes her so beautiful on the outside is the positive light she carries on the inside. She is kind and generous and is always willing to go out of her way to do nice things for others.”
It’s all true, of course, but I deliver the words with a tilt of a sarcastic smile, just to get in her head.
“That was lovely,” Chelsea praises, right as her elbow digs into a knot in my shoulder. “Jessica?”
Her eyes look everywhere but at me, which is kind of impressive given how close our faces are to each other. “Nick is a good writer.”
No one says anything for a minute, giving her the space to elaborate, which obviously she chooses not to do.
“Okay, great,” Chelsea says after an awkward pause. She blesses us with a few more minutes of peaceful silence before delivering the next question. “Now, why don’t each of you tell the other what physical trait you find most attractive in the other?”
“His eyes,” Jess says immediately, the answer flying out of her mouth before I even have the chance to think of my response.
In reality, I find every inch of her attractive, from her thick dark brown hair, to her wide smile, to the body that haunted my dreams even before we were stuck sharing a bed. But that’s a cop-out, and so I narrow in on something a little more specific. “I love her skin. How soft it is, and how it flushes whenever she’s embarrassed or…” Aroused, I think but don’t say out loud.
Those cheeks are bright pink at the moment, probably due to a combination of both emotions.
“Fantastic.” Chelsea rewards us with a break from questioning, though she uses that time to dig into the muscles of my upper back. I’m going to be sore tomorrow, but it feels amazing in the moment.
While we all sit in the quiet, I crack one eyelid, just a smidge. Jess’s eyes are fully open, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face. I blink my own open all the way, meeting her gaze full on. I would give just about anything to know what she’s thinking right now.
She searches my eyes, then lets her gaze wander. Both of us are bare to the waist, where Jake and Chelsea have tucked the sheets low around our hips. The very top of her ass is exposed, and since she is taking the opportunity to look me over, I allow myself to indulge in the same.
Our eyes come back to each other’s just as Chelsea delivers her next question. “What is your favorite memory of the other person? Nick, why don’t you go first?”
I hesitate, forcing myself to shuffle through the memories like songs on a playlist. The one that’s my real favorite is one I can’t mention. I wasn’t even really there to experience it with her, so I’m not sure it counts anyway. But nothing could ever top watching Jess sign her first book deal and publish her first novel. I had to watch from the sidelines, through Instagram and blog posts, but seeing her dreams come true, well, it was everything.
“I can go first,” Jess offers, and I’m not sure if it’s hurt in her voice or understanding.
Does she think I can’t think of a single favorite memory, or does she know there are just too many to choose from?
“Our first Christmas together was my favorite. We were still newly dating and we stayed home, just the two of us. We ordered Chinese and watched Christmas movies. I know you never liked the holidays, but I loved that you were willing to put up with it because it was important to me.”
My heart seizes in my chest. I never did like the holidays before I met Jess. And after I lost her, they became one of the most painful times of the year for me. But I loved that first Christmas together too.
“That was one of my favorites too.” But I can’t piggyback onto her happy memory, so I pull a random one from a hat. “I loved traveling with you, everywhere really, but I think our trip to Scotland was my favorite.” It’s not a lie. Some couples are terrible at traveling together, but it was one of our favorite things to do. We had plans to see the world together.
A small smile pulls on her lips. “That was a good trip.”
For a too-short second, we share a grin.
Then Chelsea and her impeccable timing strike again. “Lovely. Now we’re going to have you turn on your backs and we’ll adjust the tables.”
Chelsea holds the sheet up for me like some kind of shield, but it doesn’t do much, at least not if what’s happening a few inches from me is any indication. Jess flips over onto her back and in the brief few seconds, I catch a glimpse of everything. The smooth line of her spine, the dip of her waist, her rosy pink nipples, and the flushed skin of her chest.
And then the table beneath me starts to roll, and the already infinitesimal gap between us closes. Our massage tables are now pushed together to form another single fucking bed. It’s like the romance gods are trying to murder us.
The tables aren’t big to begin with and this new arrangement means my bare shoulder is pressed against Jess’s, that silky skin I’m so obsessed with brushing against mine with every inhale. And then Jake and Chelsea adjust the sheets, so that our hips and thighs and hands and so many parts of us are touching that I might actually combust.
