38. Lucy
Lucy
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret saying them.
I just offered to massage Leo…days after he gave me the hottest kiss of my life…after we agreed to be friends and roommates, nothing more.
Offering to grope his body isn’t exactly in line with that.
But then, a second later, the rational part of my brain speaks up.
This isn’t groping. This is your job. You’re training to assist the physios on the hockey team. You need to be comfortable doing this. You might have to help Evan or Paula give Leo a sports massage at work. This is just an opportunity to practice.
I don’t miss the way Leo’s brow lifts in surprise at my offer. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You want to massage me?”
I roll my eyes and fight a smile. “You make it sound creepy.”
“You’re the one who wants to rub my body,” he teases.
I burst out laughing. “Never mind. Forget I offered,” I say in a mock-offended tone. It feels good to joke around like this with him.
“No, I take it back. I want the massage.”
I look over at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. It might help with the soreness. And you said you needed the practice, right?”
I try to ignore the flicker of excitement sparking through me at the prospect of touching Leo’s body. All those muscles. His hot, smooth skin…
Be professional, Lucy.
“Yeah, okay.” I quietly clear my throat. “You should lie down.”
We both look at Wally sprawled out on the couch.
“I don’t want to kick him off. I’ll lie down on the floor. That okay?” Leo asks.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
He slides his big, broad body onto the floor.
“Which side is sore?” I ask.
“Left side. The lower part of my ribs, right above my hip.”
I kneel next to him and press my hand gently over the area. “Here?”
“Yeah.”
I grab my bag and pull out the small bottle of massage oil I used earlier. I pour a few droplets into my hands, then rub my palms together to warm it up.
“I have to warn you: my hands are cold.”
His mouth tilts up into a cute half-smile. “Thanks for the heads up. I think I’ll be good though.”
He pulls up his shirt, revealing the hard lines of his stomach…whoa…those abs…he has an actual six-pack…
My gaze drifts to the side, to that glorious V-line.
I trail that line along the edge of his abs, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans…
So hot.
I have no idea why. It’s just a line. A muscle that everyone on this planet has.
Who am I kidding? Most people don’t have a visible V-line. And not everyone’s V-line looks like that. Like it was carved from stone.
I drag my gaze along the exposed part of his torso. This is the second time I’ve seen his abs, and just like the first time, the sight of them leaves me breathless. All that stacked muscle…
Leo has the physique of a Roman god.
I quietly clear my throat and force myself to refocus. I press my fingertips along the lower part of his ribs.
He jerks back under my touch and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Wow. You weren’t kidding. Your fingers are like ice cubes.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re such a baby.”
The edge of his half-smile hooks higher, making him dangerously handsome. I stroke my hands over his ribs. He makes a muffled sound.
I look up to check in with him. “Is that too much?”
“Nah, I’m just a little sensitive on this part of my stomach.”
“You’re ticklish?”
His brow furrows like he’s offended. “Sensitive. Not ticklish.”
I laugh. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone’s ticklish.”
He fights a smile, his muscles twitching under my touch. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little ticklish.”
I grab his hand and place it over his ribs, right above where I’m massaging. “Keep your hand here while I work on you. This will help stop that ticklish feeling.”
He frowns like he’s confused. “How’d you do that?”
“I learned about it when I was reading an article about sports massage. You know how you can tickle someone else, but you can’t tickle yourself? If someone’s ticklish, you put their hand on or near the area you’re working on, and it’ll help minimize that ticklish feeling.”
Leo blinks. “That’s brilliant.”
“When I told Evan and Paula about it the other day at work, they seemed pretty impressed and said they would start doing it too.”
He grins. “See? I told you it was brilliant.”
I continue with the firm yet soft massage strokes over his ribcage. The longer I work on him, the more I feel him relax underneath my touch.
“Remember to breathe,” I say.
He takes a long, slow breath.
“How’s it feeling?” I ask.
“Better. A lot less tight.”
“Massaging your ribs can also help prevent side stitches,” I say. “People forget that there are muscles around the ribs, and they need to be massaged and stretched out too.”
When I look up at Leo’s face, he’s smiling at me.
“What?”
“It’s cool hearing you talk about this stuff. You’re so knowledgeable.”
Pride bubbles up in my chest. “I’ve just been reading and researching a lot since I started working at Hollis. I want to do a good job.”
He lets out a soft groan. “You’re doing a great job. My ribs feel a lot better.”
I pull my hands away. He stretches his arms up, then sits up. A second later, he winces.
“Shoot, are your ribs in pain again?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s my shoulder. It gets stiff sometimes.”
“Want me to massage it?”
He looks at me for a moment.
“I could use the practice.”
“Uh, yeah. If you don’t mind.”
He reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head.
My eyes bulge out of my head as I stare at his bare chest. All that muscle…all those hard lines…
Oh my god.
I take in his sculpted shoulders and biceps and chest…
He starts to chuckle. “You good?”
I quickly shut my eyes and nod. “Yeah. All good.”
Get a hold of yourself, Lucy. You’re going to be seeing Leo shirtless a lot if you keep working for the team. Act like a professional.
He tosses his shirt aside, then turns to face me. “It’s my right shoulder.”
I pour more oil into my palms and rub them together. I get on my knees in front of him, then grip his shoulder with both of my hands. I try to ignore how solid his body feels under my touch.
Holy muscles. He is RIPPED.
I knead his muscles in my hands, feeling the knot instantly.
“Oh, wow. You’re really tight,” I say.
He chuckles, then hisses.
“Does that hurt?” I ask. When I look at his face, he’s wincing.
He shakes his head. “It’s good. I can feel the muscle loosening. It’s just a little intense.”
When he opens his eyes and looks at me, he lets out a flustered chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just…you’re a lot stronger than you look.”
I playfully shove his other shoulder. “Jerk.”
He just laughs. “Oh, come on. Take it as a compliment. It’s like a secret weapon. You’re tiny, but you can bring a guy twice your size to his knees with your massage techniques.”
I shove him again, but I’m laughing too.
“Focus on your breath,” I say. “Slow, deep breathing helps.”
I grip his shoulder muscle harder until I feel it start to give.
“Whatever you say,” he says, his voice strained.
“Leo, come on. I can tell you’re holding your breath. That’s just going to make the pain worse.”
“I can’t help it. It’s like a reflex to hold my breath when something hurts.”
I ease off his shoulder and give a few softer strokes. “I can feel your muscles loosening already. Just a little bit more.”
I press into the muscle again. When I notice he’s looking away from me and holding his breath again, I exhale sharply, annoyed that he’s not listening to my advice.
I grab his face and turn him to look at me. “Leo. Breathe,” I order.
His eyes widen as he stares at me. Oops. That was way bossier than I intended.
But then I see the shift in his gaze. Heat flashes in his rich, coffee-brown eyes. His lips part open, and he lets out a slow, hot breath.
His thick, stubbled throat bobs as he swallows. The corner of his mouth quirks up.
“So bossy,” he murmurs.
Oh.
I think…I think he’s into this. I think he likes it when I grab his face and tell him what to do.
A second later, I feel his hand rest on my hip. I glance down at where he’s touching me…and that’s when I realize just how close we are.
I was so focused on working out his shoulder muscles that I didn’t notice that I was pressing the front of my body against him.
The air between us thickens. I’m kneeling in front of him, and our faces are just a few inches apart…
The heat from his massive hand on my hip makes my skin tingle. I’m breathing hard. So is he…
I let out a shaky breath. It feels like there’s an electrical current running between us.
His gaze falls to my mouth. The memory of our kiss slams into me. Everything my body felt that night, I’m feeling right now.
Aching. Hot. Vibrating with need.
We’re as physically close as we were that night…the only thing that’s not touching is our mouths.
Need pulses through me. I want Leo’s mouth on me so bad…
A split-second later, the logical part of my brain pipes up.
We can’t kiss. We can’t cross that line again, not if we want to stay friends.
My hands fall away from Leo, and I drop back onto my heels.
“I should go to bed,” I say quickly, breathing a little harder.
I scramble up on my feet, step around Leo, and give Wally a gentle pat. “Let’s go upstairs.”
He yawns, then hops off the couch and follows me up the staircase.
My foot barely hits the first step when I hear Leo say my name.
“Lucy, wait.”
I look over at him, still sitting on the floor. He rubs the back of his neck, his face flushed, the look in his eyes dazed.
“Sorry, um…I hope that wasn’t…” He sighs. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Leo,” I try to smile. I don’t want this to be awkward. I just want everything to be normal again.
“I hope your shoulder feels better. And your ribs.”
He swallows. “They do. Thanks.”
I flash a thumbs-up and try to smile. “No problem.” God, I’m a dork.
When I make it up to Leo’s bedroom with Wally, I close the door behind me and groan softly.
What is wrong with me? How come I can’t do something as simple as give Leo a sports massage?
Because you have a crush on him. And you’re insanely attracted to him.
I sigh, annoyed at myself for thinking I could run my hands over his ripped body and not trigger my attraction for him.
Now my skin is burning hot, and that achy pulse between my thighs is back…just like the night that he pressed me against the wall in that hotel and made out with me…
My clit pulses…between my legs, I’m aching…
I bite my lip, eager to touch myself while thinking about Leo…
I cut off the thought the second it forms. No. That’s not what friends do. Friends don’t masturbate to the thought of each other.
I ignore the throb between my legs and sit on the bed. Wally jumps up and rests his head in my lap. He lets out a tired, whiny noise, then kicks his legs out like he’s restless.
I let out a defeated sigh. “Me too, Wally.”