Spa Trip
1248 Words
Veronica Langford
My mom was officially out of her mind. She already packed my tote bag and handed me a smoothie like this was not an invitation to lose my sanity.
Of all the ways to ruin a Saturday, being told to get a “relaxing massage” from her fiancé ranked number one
The ride was mostly silent. Joshua drove with one hand on the wheel while I tried so hard not to steal glances at him.
“I never knew you could be this quiet,” he spoke first, his eyes still on the road, his expression unreadable.
I shot him a glare he probably caught in the corner of his eye.
“Still mad your mom volunteered you?” His voice was calm, almost amused.
“Mad? No,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “Just thrilled to spend my day getting rubbed down by a stranger.”
He chuckled. “Stranger? That hardly fits anymore.”
“Yes it does. You are still a stranger to me and you being my mom’s fiancé doesn’t make this any less weird,” I shot back. “Just you wait, I’ll figure out your motive.”
“My motive? Are we still on this?” He gave a small, amused breath. “You think I have an evil plan? If I did, I’d start with something more creative than taking her daughter for aromatherapy.”
The line shouldn’t have made me laugh, but it did, quietly, before I could stop it. I looked away fast, staring at the blur of palms outside the window.
He shifted his grip on the wheel, forearm flexing, veins drawing pale lines under tan skin. I told myself I wasn’t looking, but my pulse skipped anyway.
I kept my face turned to the window, but the reflection betrayed me: I was still watching him.
We arrived shortly after at the spa he worked at. He led the way into the building but stopped at the front desk. A man at the front desk checked his name off a clipboard. Joshua signed a logbook not on a tablet or digital pad, but an actual book.
I noticed that none of the other employees went through this procedure. They just walked in and went straight in.
“What’s with the whole signing process?” I asked as soon as he was done
Joshua paused for half a second, then looked back at me with an easy smile. “Oh, that. Just protocol. The manager’s old fashioned about records.”
“Come on,” he said, holding the door open for me. “You’re here to relax, not ask questions.”
“There’s the changing room,” he pointed to a door when we got to his work space. “Robes are on the hanger.”
Inside, the room smelled faintly of peppermint oil. I changed into the white robe, trying to ignore the banging of my heat against my chest.
When I stepped out, Joshua had changed too. Gone was the hoodie. He now wore light-gray scrubs that hugged his arms in a way that made looking anywhere else impossible.
My eyes traced his veins till I reached his massive, well toned biceps that flexed every time he moved
Great. Just great.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice drawing me out of my thoughts
My body screamed that it was ready, but I knew better.
I crossed my arms. “You’re seriously the one doing it?”
He leaned against the counter, clearly enjoying every bit of my supposed irritation. “Would you rather I call someone else?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, before I had the time to change my mind
“Too bad, all the other staff are booked.”
There was really no getting out of this; maybe I didn’t want to.
“So, what kind of massage would you like? Light massage, deep-tissue—”
“Whatever’s quickest,” I cut in, shaking my head as though I could shake the nasty thoughts I was having of him too. “I just want to get this over with.”
“Sure thing.”
He told me to lie down face-first on the table, so I did. The sheet was warm, and for a second, I thought maybe I could just relax. Then he started speaking again.
“So,” he said casually, “college soon,” he said. “Any plans yet?”
I kept my face buried in the cushion.“I’m planning to survive the next hour. That’s enough.”
He gave a short laugh.
“There’s really no need for you to torture me with whatever bonding experience you’re seeking. You’ve got the wrong person”
He laughed quietly. “Noted. I’ll try to tone down the torture.”
The smell of almond and lavender filled the air as I heard him rub his palm together. His footsteps approached the bed and whatever attitude I had left evaporated
“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly
I was wearing nothing but underwear beneath.
I nodded
He wasn’t supposed to look like that. Or sound that calm. It messed with my brain. I reminded myself that it was just a massage and he was just any other masseuse.
He eased the robe down, warm oil sliding along my spine.
His hands moved over my shoulders; slow, controlled, too gentle for the chaos it caused inside me.
My mind screamed at my body to behave, yet I could feel my n****e harden as a warm, tingly sensation overtook me
Then one deeper glide down my back pushed a small, involuntary sound from me before I could stop it, my breath betraying me instantly
I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
My body was racing ahead of my brain, and if I didn’t stop this now—
“Stop.” I half moaned, begrudgingly. “I..It’s enough.”
The second the word left my mouth, relief and regret collided in my chest.
I wasn’t sure which one hurt more.
For a second, none of us breathed
“Yeah, Uhm..” he cleared his throat, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you or make you uncomfortable. I’ll be outside”
He pulled the robe over my back with a care that made everything worse.
He left, the door clicking shut too softly for how loud my thoughts were.
For a long moment I just sat there, robe half-pulled around me, trying to remember how to breathe. My skin still hummed where his hands had been and I just sat there, frozen between want and guilt
What must he think of me? Was he going to tell my mom I moaned? Twice.
I needed an excuse—anything to hide how embarrassed I was. I changed up and went through a different hallway to avoid him when I overheard a conversation
“Joshua’s been doing good, he definitely has my vote when the officer comes asking.”
My curiosity took the better of me and I halted
“Do you think I should make my move at him? I like him so much but I’m nervous?”
“I think you should. Besides, he might not be here for long.”
I don’t know what clouded my head first, jealousy or curiosity
What did they mean by an officer coming to ask and he won’t be here for long?
- Writer
