10. Ashely
ASHELY
“ A re you wearing underwear?” I asked Fox when we were in the elevator.
He gave me a startled look.
“I mean during the massage. They always tell me to take off as much as I’m comfortable removing and I never know when to stop.”
“I think when you stop feeling comfortable?” He quirked a brow at me. “I don’t actually have any, just the pair still damp from my swim. I’ll wear Shane’s shirts and boardies, but I won’t wear his grundies.”
“Oh.” So he was naked under that robe? A vision started to form in my head before I hurriedly erased it, but my cheeks still tingled with a blush. I shrugged inside my robe. “I kept my thong on.”
“Oh.” He turned his nose to the front of the car. Cleared his throat. “I’ve only had a massage in Thailand and they don’t care. Not that kind,” he added quickly, cutting me a stern glance.
“Right.” I rolled my eyes, smirking.
He frowned at my skepticism. “I’m fussy about who touches my junk. I sure as hell don’t pay strangers to play with it.”
You didn’t know Izzy , I wanted to say, but bit my lips into a line, unsure why I cared one way or another. I found a quirky smile.
“Since I’ve seen what you’re like if someone asks to borrow your pen, I’m inclined to believe you.”
“I don’t even like to share a bar of soap,” he muttered. “Probably because I spent so much time with one in my mouth as a kid.”
“Soap? Or junk?” I batted innocent lashes at him.
He pursed his mouth. “I’m going to let you have that because you’re my friend and you need cheering up.”
I grinned, marginally cheered. Bantering with Fox was always fun. I’d missed him.
More than Shane? I brushed that thought aside, but it didn’t erase the troubling knowledge that if I didn’t move to Australia, I wouldn’t see Fox again.
That thought hit me like a sucker punch, landing so hard I had to take a deep breath to absorb it.
The elevator doors opened. Fox stuck out a hand to hold them open while I ducked my face and scooted out ahead of him, disturbed. All my emotions were at eleven right now, I reasoned. I wouldn’t lose touch with him just because he forced my wedding to be called off. We could still be friends. Couldn’t we?
Maybe I could still go to Australia and— No. I couldn’t. My plan had hinged on having a home and a job. Fox might be willing to keep me on at T&B, but I couldn’t work with Shane. I didn’t want to. Not anymore.
This was so weird. How was I this upset at the idea of not seeing Fox, yet totally fine with the prospect of moving around the world and probably never seeing Izzy again?
Fox checked us in at Reception and handed me one of the forms on a clipboard to fill in my medical history. I tried to put things back to silly banter by holding out my pen.
“Can we switch?”
“Sure.” He absently offered his pen and didn’t get the joke until I failed to take his. “Oh. You’re hilarious.”
I had thought so, but now I wondered what it meant that he was willing to let me use his pen without question.
It meant nothing. He could get a fresh one from the desk if he wanted. I was being silly.
A woman named Inga came to get us a few minutes later. She led us outside to a hut big enough for two massage tables and a shelf full of towels. One wall was open to the surf. A gentle breeze wafted in with the lulling noise of the churning waves.
“This is my husband, Ikaika,” Inga introduced.
The Hawaiian looked like a pro wrestler who broke sturdy men like Fox over his meaty thigh to make kindling for a luau. He shook Fox’s hand and glanced over his paperwork while Inga did the same with mine. They asked about allergies and other concerns.
“I’ll get handouts and your gift basket while you’re having your lesson,” Ikaika said.
“Wait. What lesson?” Fox and I spoke over each another.
“I’m going to show you some techniques so you can give each other a massage anytime you want.” Inga smiled and nodded at Ikaika as he left.
“Oh. Um...” I cast an uncertain look at Fox.
He shrugged.
“Before you start, make sure you have everything the way you want it.” Inga indicated the room. “You don’t want oil on your hands before you set your phone to Do Not Disturb or realize the music is too loud. Have some towels handy,” she advised as she set a couple of hand towels on the end of one massage table. “I can close the curtain if the light or the breeze will disturb you?”
“I don’t mind if it’s open.” I glanced at Fox.
He nod-shrugged, looking as panic-lost as I felt.
“Good. Ashley why don’t you sit on the edge of the table here.” Inga patted the massage table. “And Fox if you leave your robe on, but drop it off your shoulders? Expose as much of your back— Perfect,” she said as Fox turned his back and loosened the robe, catching the terrycloth on his bent elbows while making sure to keep the bottom half closed.
Inga adjusted the collar where it draped across his lower back and steered him with a hand on his upper arm. “Now stand in front of Ashley. Open your legs,” she instructed me.
“I thought you were going to demonstrate,” I said, thinking my voice sounded thin.
“It’s a practical lesson.” Inga cheerfully pressed Fox into place.
Fox seemed clumsy for the first time in his life. He gave me a look over his shoulder that could only be described as a cat going into a carrier that held the smell of the vet.
I hesitated, but Inga took hold of my knee and, Whoop . I wound up splaying my thighs to give Fox a space to back into. I swallowed as my knees sank into the folds of robe draping his flat hips. My vision filled with the wall of his contoured back.
“Ikaika’s handout will summarize all the tips I give you and includes a map to guide you through a fifteen-minute massage. That’s usually a nice amount of time so you’re both fully relaxed, but not so tired you can’t do other things.” Inga winked.
Hahaha . I bit back growing hysteria. “We’re not actually, um, lovers.” My throat dried up on the word.
“You’re saving it for the wedding night? How sweet!” Inga moved to get the oil.
Fox swung a look over his shoulder again, astounded hilarity widening his eyes.
I slapped my hand over my mouth and made an agreeing, “Mmm-hmm,” noise.
He dipped his head and his shoulders jerked with suppressed laughter.
Shane was going to get such a kick out of this, I thought with a private giggle, then sobered as reality rolled back in like a storm surge.
“This will be good for you,” Inga was saying as she came back. She tipped a dime-sized spot of oil into my palm. “It will help you get used to touching each other. You want to rub your palms to warm it.” She rubbed her dry hands together to demonstrate. “When you touch your partner, relax your hands. Tell him with your touch that he should relax. The more surface you touch, the more relaxing the massage.”
I held my hands above Fox’s shoulders, sensing his tension as he waited. Tentatively I set my oily hands against his skin. He was warm and smooth and his hard muscles flexed under my hesitant strokes. Goosebumps came up on his arm. I instinctively drifted my hand there to smooth them away.
His tricep twitched and the hollow of his spine deepened.
A weird swirling sensation, like laughter but different, accosted the pit of my belly. My scalp prickled and I had to consciously draw my next breath. I was hyper-aware of the width of Fox’s hips between my splayed knees. Of the little knicks and scars on his skin from being tumbled in the waves.
“I, um...” Fox cleared his throat. “I had a physiotherapist work on my leg when I pulled a hamstring. He did a deep tissue thing.” He sounded gruff. His shoulders seemed to be hardening, not relaxing beneath my touch. “Shouldn’t she be digging in with her thumbs?”
“You can bruise the muscle if you don’t know what you’re doing. That’s not very romantic. Leave the serious treatment to the experts and let this be a sensual experience. Long, sweeping strokes,” Inga coached, motioning for me to paint the oil across every inch of skin I could reach. “Any time you can’t think of what to do, go back to these long, easy strokes. It can be very hypnotic for both of you.”
It was. I was trying to dismiss this as an objective task like washing a wall, but Fox’s skin was drum tight across firm muscles. I couldn’t remember ever touching a man so thoroughly and deliberately. Not without being in a lip lock or other intimate scenario. It was like petting a big, powerful animal. Soothing, yet dangerous. Exciting.
“Do you like it?” Inga asked Fox. “Tell her. You’ll want to remember to do that during sex, too. Communication is everything.”
“Oh, my God.” I and lifted my hands off his back. I wanted to bury my face in them, but they were covered in oil.
Fox hitched his robe into place, chuckling dryly.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Why don’t you take over, Fox?”
“I think we’ve got it.” He yanked his belt tight before he faced me. His cheeks were going red and there was a persecuted light in his eyes. Please get me out of this .
I opened my mouth to let him off the hook, but Inga spoke again, cajoling, “You’ll want him to know how to rub your feet if plan to get pregnant.”
I met Fox’s thunderstruck expression and the absurdity couldn’t be contained any longer. We burst out laughing.