“Right.” She glances down. “Could you . . .” She twirls her finger in the air. “Face the wall?”
I open my mouth to object—to list all the reasons she doesn’t need to worry about stripping in front of me—then think better of it and give her my back. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she mutters, and I grin at the wall.
Chapter Twelve
Abbi
I am total goo. Any muscles I had were completely melted and obliterated by Rachel’s magical hands. It’s a wonder I was able to dress myself after, let alone walk to the car.
Dean asked if he could take me on a picnic, and since it’s another beautiful day with the slightly cooler autumn temps I live for, I said yes. But other than that, he’s been quiet since we left the spa, cutting looks to me from time to time but mostly keeping to himself.
I figure he’s reveling in the post-massage Zen state too, but there’s something about his expression that finally makes me speak up. “What’s on your mind, porcupine?”
He scoffs out a laugh and shifts his gaze back to the road. “I’ve never heard anyone but your mom say that,” he says, smiling.
I shrug and tuck one leg under me. “Can’t hear it every day through your teen years without it becoming part of your vernacular.” I laugh. “But oh man, I hated it back then.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I remember. Kace used to say it just to piss you off.”
I shrug. “I was a moody teen—what can I say?” I wait a beat. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
He squeezes the steering wheel. “You’d tell me if there was something between you and Hudson?”
“That’s really what you’ve been stewing about? If I’m dating a fresh-out-of-college dude-bro?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m stewing, but . . . Well?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not dating Hudson. Never have dated Hudson, have no plans to date Hudson. Why?”
“So when you told Stella you were dating again . . .?”
I gasp. “She told you that?” Did she tell him I got a Brazilian? It shouldn’t matter. After Tuesday, he’s well acquainted with the state of things between my legs, but it’s a little embarrassing to admit I did that just for him.
He cuts his gaze to me again. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”
“No, but . . .” I shift in my seat. “I just didn’t realize the two of you talked about me.”
“It’s not like that.” He reaches out and squeezes my thigh. His hand is warm and strong, and when he leaves it there instead of pulling it away, all my attention goes to those fingers and the heat seeping through my jeans. “Hudson’s massage was okay, but he spent most of the time looking over at you. I just didn’t know if there was a reason beyond him having a crush or something.”
I roll my eyes. “You and Layla.”
“What about me and Layla?”
“She thinks he’s into me too. Trust me. He’s not. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not into him.”
He nods. “Okay. I just wanted to know.”
I place my hand on top of his and thread our fingers together. After what we did in my office on Tuesday, it’s crazy that holding hands should feel so intimate. But it does, and my heart races with anticipation until he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze in return. “So your massage wasn’t as good as mine then, huh?”
“Who knows?” He turns down Park toward the lake and his house. “Hudson wasn’t the only one distracted by you. Did you know you make these soft little porno sounds when you’re getting a massage?”
I gape at him. “I do not!”
“Oh, but you do. They’re not quite sighs and not quite moans, and it’s a damn good thing Hudson wasn’t the one responsible for those noises or I would’ve jumped off the table and yanked his hands off you.”
“But you’re fine with a woman making me moan?” He flashes me a lascivious grin, and I pinch the back of his hand. “That’s ridiculous.”
He shrugs. “I’m sorry for being a hypocritical, double-standard-holding, patriarchal jackass. It shouldn’t matter. They’re professionals, and I’m as aware as any regular that there’s nothing sexual about massage. But I would’ve been jealous as fuck if Hudson had been the one touching you. Give me some credit for being self-aware.”
I can’t hold back my chuckle. “Well, at least there’s that.”
He turns into his driveway and shuts off the engine. “I’m just gonna run in to let Trixie out and grab our food, and then I’ll be back.”
“Oh, I haven’t seen Trixie in forever!” I unbuckle. “Let’s have our picnic on the deck so we can hang with her.”
He stares at me for a beat before leaning across the console and pressing a firm kiss to my lips. “Don’t change.”