Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
The reception area was a stark contrast to the gritty confines of the base. The walls were a blinding white, the kind that seemed to repel dirt and imperfections with an almost aggressive sterility. The tiles on the floor gleamed under the soft overhead lighting, polished to such a high shine that they reflected every movement like a mirror.
Plush couches, upholstered in soft cream leather and adorned with oversized sage-green pillows, broke up the starkness. Their vibrant color offered a warmth that felt almost out of place. In every corner, lush green plants spilled over their pots, their leaves cascading in gentle arcs that reminded Ethan of waterfalls.
A gentle melody hummed through hidden speakers, soft and lilting, designed to soothe. But instead of calming his frayed nerves, it only seemed to amplify them.
Ethan moved to the couch and sank down, as if he was testing its stability. His fingers brushed against the worn denim of his jeans, and he tugged at them, absently trying to find some semblance of comfort.
The leather couch gave a soft groan as he sprawled his legs out in front of him, shoulders slumping in what he hoped was an air of nonchalance.
Every muscle inside his body was wound tight, a sparking tension that usually only came before a firefight. Firefights were predictable. He could handle chaos—bullets ricocheting off rocks, orders barked over comms, the adrenaline surging through his veins. That was simple. That was clear-cut survival. But this? Sitting here in this antiseptic room waiting for a stranger to knead their hands into his bare skin while Logan watched? That was an entirely different battlefield.
Across the room, Logan stood at the desk, leaning casually against it like he had all the time in the world. The receptionist—her makeup thick but expertly applied—flashed a bright smile as she chatted, her cheerful voice carrying easily over the soft music.
Logan looked at home here in a way Ethan envied. The ease with which he moved, the relaxed set of his shoulders beneath that snug T-shirt, only made Ethan feel more out of place.
“You okay?” Logan asked with a hint of concern, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Ethan’s tense posture.
Ethan’s pulse thudded against his throat, a reminder of how out of place he felt. He clenched his jaw, then forced himself to still his hands as he offered what he hoped was a convincing nod of assurance.
Logan wasn’t buying it and tilted his head as if trying to read between the lines before he finally took a step closer. “You done this before?” There was no judgment in his tone, just curiosity.
Caught off guard, Ethan blinked. “Done what before?” The question came out sharper than intended, betraying his unease.
“A full body massage.” Logan’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, drawing out each syllable like he was savoring them. “Ever had one?”
“No.” Ethan swallowed and shook his head. “Never.” Heat rushed to his cheeks as though confessing something far more intimate.
“First time, huh?” Logan mused as his hand came down with a lighthearted clap on Ethan’s shoulder. His eyes crinkled at the corners, but there was a gleam in them that suggested something beyond simple amusement. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s one you won’t forget.”
There was something in what he said—something deliberate—that sent Ethan’s heart hammering against his ribs like it was about to break free.
Desperate for some kind of distraction from whatever game Logan was playing, Ethan reached for the nearest magazine on the sleek glass coffee table next to him.
The glossy cover promised wellness tips and spa secrets in bold lettering, but the articles barely registered as he flipped through its pages with jittery fingers. The images of serene landscapes and smiling models wrapped in towels blurred together, and no matter how hard he tried to focus, his eyes kept straying back to Logan.
The way the man moved as he filled out paperwork, his broad shoulders shifting beneath his shirt, only made Ethan more restless.
“Here...” Logan returned with a clipboard and handed it over. “You need to fill this out before we go in.”
Ethan took it, avoiding Logan’s gaze as he gripped the pen tightly, his hands trembling as he wrote his name. His jeans felt tight around his thighs, the denim digging into his skin like a punishment for his earlier wardrobe choice.
Why the fuck didn’t I wear sweats? he thought as he adjusted his stance. The soreness from this morning’s five-mile run and combat drills flared in his muscles, a reminder of the grueling training they’d completed before Logan had suggested this “recovery” session.
But worse was the dull, insistent throb between his legs—a visceral reminder of how exposed he felt in Logan’s presence.
He risked a glance up but immediately regretted it.
Logan was watching him, not with judgment, but with an intensity that made his heart leap. The man’s eyes had darkened slightly, his jaw set in a way that suggested concentration.
A thrill of something dangerously close to excitement shot through Ethan—a maddening contradiction to the anxiety twisting his gut. He snapped his focus back on the paperwork, signing with a flourish that nearly tore through the paper.
He stood up and thrust the clipboard back to the receptionist.
“Thank you,” she said brightly, her professional smile unwavering as she glanced at the form. “Mr. Lockwood, Mr. Parker... your room is ready for you now.”
Ethan froze, his brows rising as he processed what she just said. “Room?” His voice came out louder than he’d intended, tinged with a hint of panic. His fingers tightened on the counter, as though bracing himself.
The receptionist didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, her smile widening as she clarified, “It’s a twin session. Mr. Lockwood requested it so you can talk while you relax.”
Ethan felt the floor tilt beneath him. Talk while you relax? The phrase sounded absurdly casual for what seemed like an impossibly intimate situation. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could find the right words, a warm weight settled on his shoulder.
Logan.
The man’s hand was reassuring, but to be honest that only made things worse. Heat radiated from his palm through Ethan’s shirt, and suddenly all he could think about was how close they were standing.
“C’mon,” Logan said, his voice smooth as velvet. There was an easy grin playing on his lips, but there was something else, too—a subtle tightness around his eyes that hinted at his own anticipation. “Let’s get you ready for your first time.”
Ethan nearly choked. First time? Could Logan hear himself? Did he know how that sounded?
He scrambled to find a funny retort, but Logan was already leaning in, his breath ghosting over his ear. “I booked the full spa package,” he continued, his tone dropping conspiratorially, as if sharing some grand secret. His pupils were dilated just slightly as he pulled back to meet Ethan’s gaze. “Massage, sauna—the works. Thought you could use it after today.”
Ethan forced a nod because suddenly speaking felt impossible. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, and even the receptionist’s cheerful voice seemed muffled compared to the roar in his ears.
“Just let Devon know when you’re ready for the sauna,” she added, before turning her attention back to her screen.
Logan didn’t wait and gave Ethan a gentle nudge toward the hall beyond the reception. “C’mon, kid,” he repeated, this time with more amusement coloring his tone. “You’ll feel like a new man after this.”
The hall stretched ahead like an endless tunnel leading straight into uncharted territory, the doors lining either side silent witnesses to whatever awaited them beyond.
The atmosphere was serene, the muted lighting casting warm golden hues on cream-colored walls.
Ethan felt even more out of place.
This is either gonna be incredible... or a fucking disaster, he thought, though deep down he suspected it would be both.
He stole another quick glance at Logan as they strode down the hall. The older man moved with confidence—shoulders squared and strides measured. The corner of his mouth was pulled up in a half-smile that could have meant anything.
“You good?” he suddenly asked, one eyebrow arching questioningly.
“Uh, yeah,” Ethan croaked, unconvincing in his reply.
“Relax,” Logan chuckled as he pushed open a door at the end of the hall and gestured Ethan inside. His expression softened momentarily, a flash of genuine concern breaking through his usual confident demeanor. “Rookie first.”
Ethan hesitated as their arms brushed briefly in passing—a fleeting contact that sent sparks skittering across his flesh.
Fuck me... he thought, then prayed he hadn’t said it out loud.