Couples Massage
The Londoner — The Next Morning
Leah regretted booking the spa approximately seven minutes after arriving.
Not because the spa wasn't beautiful.
It was terrifyingly beautiful.
Soft marble floors. Dim lighting. Expensive candles everywhere. Quiet instrumental music designed specifically to make rich people emotionally vulnerable.
The issue was the massage therapist.
More specifically—
the massage therapist flirting with Elle.
Leah noticed it immediately.
Of course she did.
Because unfortunately she'd become very aware lately of how attractive her girlfriend actually was.
Dangerous information honestly.
"You two booked the couples package?" the receptionist smiled warmly while checking them in.
Leah nodded politely.
The receptionist looked toward Elle.
"You're both stunning by the way."
Leah smiled.
Normal compliment.
Fine.
Then their massage therapist arrived.
Tall.
Very charming.
And immediately far too interested in Elle.
"Well," he smiled while leading them toward the treatment rooms, "this might be the most attractive booking we've had all month."
Leah narrowed her eyes instantly.
Beside her, Elle looked deeply entertained already.
Oh no.
Absolutely not.
The therapist looked directly at Elle next.
"You're American?"
"Yeah."
"I knew it. You've got that New York look."
Leah physically scoffed behind him.
The man continued walking completely oblivious.
"You model?"
Elle laughed softly. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only because I'm observant."
Leah's eye twitched slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Inside the couples treatment room soft music played while two massage beds sat side-by-side beneath warm lighting.
The therapist smiled professionally.
"We'll start with shoulders and backs first."
Then directly to Elle—
"You carry tension here, I think."
Leah stared at the side of his head in disbelief.
How exactly had he deduced that within three minutes?
Was he a witch?
Elle climbed onto the massage table trying not to laugh while Leah watched this entire interaction like a deeply suspicious bodyguard.
"Everything okay over there?" Elle murmured innocently.
Leah laid face-down dramatically.
"I'm being very brave actually."
The therapist smiled politely. "First spa?"
"No," Leah answered immediately. "First time fighting for my life though."
Silence.
Then suddenly Elle burst out laughing so hard she nearly fell off the table.
The therapist looked horrified.
Leah looked deeply unapologetic.
"You're insane," Elle whispered through laughter.
"Am I wrong?"
The therapist wisely chose not to answer that question.
For the next ten minutes Leah attempted to relax while simultaneously listening to this man continue casually charming her girlfriend beside her.
"So how long are you in London?"
"A couple weeks."
"Lucky city."
Leah opened one eye slowly.
Enough.
Finally she rolled onto her back dramatically and looked directly toward Elle.
"Babe."
Elle immediately bit her lip.
Because that tone meant trouble.
"Yes, darling?"
Leah smiled tightly.
"Can you remind the very nice man where you're sleeping tonight?"
The room went silent for exactly one second.
Then Elle physically hid her face in the pillow laughing.
The therapist blinked rapidly.
"Oh my God," Elle whispered.
Leah looked completely serious.
"At my house," she continued politely toward the therapist. "In my bed. Because she's my girlfriend."
There it was.
Claiming.
Subtle as a sledgehammer.
The therapist immediately looked terrified.
"Understood."
Elle was now laughing so hard tears genuinely appeared in her eyes.
Leah finally cracked too, smiling helplessly into the pillow.
"I cannot take you anywhere," Elle managed eventually.
"That man wanted your entire life story."
"He was being friendly."
"He was being emotionally suspicious."
The therapist wisely left shortly afterward to "prepare the oils."
Coward.
The second the door closed, Elle rolled onto her side looking absolutely delighted.
"You got jealous."
Leah looked offended immediately.
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
"He asked if London was lucky to have you."
"And?"
Leah stared at her for a second.
Then quieter—
"Well obviously it is."
God.
That answer hit Elle directly in the chest.
Because beneath the teasing and jealousy sat something softer.
Possessiveness born entirely from love.
Leah reached across the small gap between the massage tables until their fingers linked loosely together.
Then softly—
"You know I'm obsessed with you, right?"
Elle smiled instantly.
"Correct."
"And I'm allowed to defend my territory."
"I'm not territory."
Leah looked at her thoughtfully.
"No," she agreed quietly. "You're home."
The humour disappeared instantly after that.
Because somehow Leah still managed to say devastating things completely accidentally.
Elle's expression softened immediately.
And somewhere inside the nicest spa in London while massage music played softly in the background and a traumatised therapist avoided eye contact outside the room, both women realised something deeply dangerous:
they were becoming impossibly serious about each other now.