7. Elias
Chapter Seven
ELIAS
Two weeks later
“Elias!”
At the sound of that cheerful voice, I turned, catching sight of Violet Hamilton. I’d gotten to know Violet pretty well because she’d drawn my blood several times over the last few months.
“Hey, Vi,” I said as I paused in the hallway at the hospital
“You’re looking good,” she said as she stopped in front of me with a bright smile. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she wore a neon pink scrubs top with a ponytail holder to match. “No cast.” She glanced down at my left foot before lifting her hand for a high five.
I smacked my palm against hers as I chuckled. “Finally.”
“I’m glad. I know it got frustrating with that setback,” she replied.
“I hope I never break my ankle again,” I said fervently.
“Right, ankle breaks are a pain in the a—” She paused, correcting herself with, “bum.”
I must’ve looked confused because she laughed. “Hazards of having a toddler. I try not to swear too much.”
“Is “ass” technically a swear?”
Violet shrugged. “I don’t actually know, but I don’t want Alec to say it, so I’m gonna stick with “bum”,” she explained.
I nodded. “Fair enough. How’s it going?”
“Busy. Work is busy, and things are picking up at the ski lodge, so Sawyer’s schedule has exploded.” She was married to Sawyer Hamilton who owned the local ski lodge with his siblings.
“With the snow melting, ski season should be winding down, right?”
“It hasn’t melted yet. Plus, they do all that hiking and biking stuff now, so they’re busy all the time. Sawyer says they send people your way all the time for flight trips.”
“They sure do, and we appreciate it.”
Violet’s name was paged over the hospital intercom. “Gotta run,” she said quickly. “Off to stab someone with a needle. You take care.” She hurried off, waving over her shoulder.
I resumed walking down toward the physical therapist’s office. He had recommended a massage for me to help loosen up the tension around my knee and hip from compensating due to the problems with my ankle. At this point, I just wanted to be back to full speed, although I was flying again, so I wasn’t going to complain.
A moment later, the receptionist smiled up at me. The physical therapy and massage therapy offices were housed in an old wing of the hospital.
“Hey there, Elias,” Claudia said with a soft smile.
“Hey, Claudia. Dan scheduled me with the massage therapist. I don’t have a name though.”
Claudia clicked on her keyboard, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her. “There you are. You’ve got an appointment with Cammi.”
I only knew one Cammi, but figured it couldn’t be the same one. “I hope this massage therapist is as good as the coffee at Cammi’s Red Truck Coffee,” I quipped.
“It’s the same Cammi,” Claudia said.
“It is?”
Claudia nodded just as the phone rang. Since I didn’t want to look like an idiot standing there with my mouth open, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and turned to sit in one of the chairs in the small waiting area. I presumed the space was intended to be soothing with soft blue walls and watercolors of flowers. Meanwhile, I was grappling with the knowledge that Cammi would be giving me a massage. The mere idea of it sent electricity zipping through my body. I hadn’t seen Cammi since that foolish kiss in the parking lot a few weeks ago.
I didn’t like admitting it, to anyone, much less myself, but I’d replayed that kiss in my mind hundreds of times since then.
“Elias?”
I glanced over to see Cammi standing in the doorway to the waiting area. I stood and quickly crossed the room to her. Pink crested on her cheeks as I got closer.
“Come on back.” She gestured for me to follow her.
A moment later, we were standing inside a small room. A massage table took up the entire center of the room, and it was otherwise almost empty, save for a chair in the corner and a small cabinet against the wall to the side of the table.
Cammi’s scent hit me, some kind of flower with a hint of sweetness to it. I instantly recalled the feel of her lips underneath mine.
She twisted her hands, her brows arching slightly with a twitch of worry appearing between them. “I didn’t realize I had an appointment with you. The physical therapy office handles my schedule.”
“I didn’t know you even did this.”
Cammi shrugged. “It’s a side gig. Helps me cover the bills during the winter when my coffee truck is closed down. I only do it part time, and then stop altogether in the summer,” she explained.
Part of me wanted to leave because I didn’t know if I could handle having her hands on my body. The physical therapist had talked me into this, as it was. Yet, her anxiety about it somehow pushed me. I wasn’t going to chicken out.
As she stood there, I asked, “Is there a problem?”
“No.” She shook her head quickly. “Unless you think there’s a problem”
“I don’t think there’s a problem,” I lied.
I supposed it wasn’t a total lie. The only problem was me and my body’s reaction to Cammi. Surely, I could handle that.
“Okay then,” she said brightly. “I just need you to strip down to your underwear. You can put everything on the chair there.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the corner where the chair sat innocuously, oblivious to the undercurrents zinging back and forth in the air. “I’ll be right back. You can lay face down on the table.” She patted it and hurried past me.
“Didn’t think I’d ever hear you asking me to strip.” Those words just slipped out of my mouth.
Cammi spun back, her mouth opening slightly and pink cresting high on her cheeks again. She pressed her lips together in a line. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I didn’t know what the hell had gotten into me. I just wanted to ruffle her even more. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
Cammi let out a flustered sigh, turning and leaving the room without even granting me a reply.
A few minutes later, I’d done as instructed. I heard a light knock on the door, followed by Cammi’s voice, “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” I called, my voice muffled through the face-rest of the massage table.
After I heard the door open and close, she asked, “Any music requests?”
“I get to choose?” I heard her moving around and resisted the urge to lift my head.
“Of course.”
“You pick.”
I heard her murmur something, and then some soothing seventies blues came on, of all things. Somehow, she’d picked my favorite era and type of music without knowing.
Another moment later, I heard her saying, “I’ll start with your back.”
Her palms rested at the base of my spine, sliding up in a smooth pass, the oil warm under her touch. Although it was pure heaven to have Cammi’s hands on me for reasons that had nothing to do with this massage, I didn’t realize how much stress was built up in my body. I had to bite back a groan at how good it felt to have her working the tension out of the corded muscles in my spine and shoulders before making her way to my glutes and then down my legs.
“Damn, I was more sore than I realized,” I mumbled.
My entire upper left side was balled with tension. Cammi’s touch was light but firm
“You’ve been compensating for your leg for months now. That takes a toll.”
It wasn’t until it was all over and I was practically jelly on the table that Cammi’s voice came again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll give you time to get dressed.”
I lay there, almost undone. After a moment, I slowly rolled up, marveling at the absence of tension, especially in my spine and along that one leg. I definitely could’ve used a few more massages. I chuckled to myself as I got dressed with the Bee Gees playing in the background.
A few minutes later, there was another knock on the door. I was still sitting in the chair, although I was fully dressed now.
“It’s safe,” I called.
Cammi came in, her gaze sweeping over me. “How do you feel?”
“Better than I have in months.”
Her lips twisted to the side with a half-smile. “Good. You could use a little relaxation, you know,” she teased lightly.
“Well, Dan ‘prescribed’ it,” I said, using air quotes as I stood from the chair.
“Make sure to drink plenty of water. You might experience some soreness after the fact. The water will help.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, dipping my head in acknowledgment.
The room suddenly felt small, and the air lit with a humming charge. My rational side knew kissing Cammi again was a bad plan, but reason didn’t hold much power in the moment.
Stepping closer, I searched her eyes, watching as they darkened like the sky on a stormy day, the blue deepening to almost navy. Her lips parted with a breath, and that soft sound was like a match tossed in dry leaves.
I didn’t realize I was standing so close until she took a deeper breath and I felt the brush of her breasts against my chest. As if she could read my mind, she whispered, “This is a bad idea.”
“Maybe,” I murmured.
I waited, although I didn’t know why. When her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip, I was gone. Decision made.
Her hair was up in a bun with loose tendrils dangling around her cheeks. Lifting a hand, I brushed one back, the lock of hair sliding like silk through my fingers. I dropped a kiss on one corner of her mouth, and then the other, capturing her gasp with my lips when I fit my mouth over hers.
She made this little throaty sound. It was like spurs in the flanks of my desire. Closing the inch between us, I slid one palm down her spine into the dip of her waist and over the sweet curve of her bottom, pulling her into a full body clench as I deepened our kiss.
Kissing Cammi was dangerous. I dove into the sweet heat of our kiss, her tongue gliding like liquid silk. She made a little impatient sound, flexing into me as one hand curved over my shoulder to cup the back of my neck and pull me closer. Her tongue was bossy against mine and for a few moments there, I lost sense of everything but her.
She was intoxicating. I finally needed air, and broke my lips free, leaning my head back and gulping it in, inhaling her scent, which only served to cloud the haze of lust in my mind. I could feel the press of her nipples against my chest with every ragged breath she took.
Looking back at her, all my cells were scrambled, and I couldn’t think. Cammi, sweet Cammi, was something else when she let her guard down. Her cheeks were flushed pretty and pink, and her lips plumped and swollen from our kiss.
I shocked myself with what I said next. “I want to see you.”
“I’m right here,” she murmured.
“No, I mean not just a kiss.”
She swallowed, and something flickered in her eyes. Worry, I thought.
We stared at each other in the quiet, and then Cammi jumped when there was a knock on the door. “Your next appointment is here,” Claudia’s voice called through the door.
“Be right there,” she called in return.
Cammi was all in a fluttery hurry then. “Okay, um. Claudia will schedule you. I’m not sure if the next one will be with me, or somebody else.”
She practically shoved me out the door, while I tried to absorb the implications of the fact that it seemed I couldn’t get too close to Cammi without kissing her.