The Rub Down (4 page)

Luke

The rest of my week was business as usual at The Rub Down. One look at our increasing numbers proved Jess’s marketing degree from Boston University was coming in handy. Her ideas were killing it. Clients came and went, and a full schedule kept us busy every day until closing time.

Friday was finally here, and I looked forward to the weekend. In the beginning, Danny and I worked seven days a week, giving everything we had to the spa. Now, we trusted our amazing staff and felt comfortable taking some time for ourselves. I spent Saturdays on paperwork and scheduling, and took off on Sundays. He did the opposite. He kept his Saturdays free, and whatever business stuff I didn’t finish, he completed on Sundays.

After work, Danny and I planned to have drinks with a few other guys from the spa, but before then, I was seeing Alexa. More than a few times this week, I caught my mind drifting toward her. I needed to figure out why I was so drawn to her. If I could get through her session without making inappropriate moves toward her, then I would find some girls to flirt with tonight, and maybe get her completely out of my head.

At four o’clock, I walked into the Zen room and found her oohing and aahing with another girl over something in a magazine. She didn’t strike me as a girl stuck on fashion, but what did I know? Not much more than she owned purple underwear, and the spa robe hung perfectly on her body.

“Hey, Alexa, ready to get a rub down?” I asked in what turned out to be the cheesiest voice ever.

Alexa’s friend whispered something in her ear, making the blush on her face visible even in the dim lights.

“Yes, let’s go.”

After she said goodbye to her friend, I handed her a cup of citrus water, and she followed me down the hall.

“How did you feel the day after your massage?” I opened the heavy door to my treatment room. The ambiance was drastically different from the first time she was here. Instead of candles and the sultry tunes of Sade, I opted for dim lighting and nature sounds. The less sexy I made this, the better off I’d be.

“When I ran, I was a little tight, but I think that was mostly my fault. I didn’t stretch as well as I should have, and a glass of wine probably doesn’t count toward my water consumption, huh?” she confessed, with a little twinkle of mischief in her smile.

“No, wine doesn’t help, but I understand the need to unwind with a glass after a long day.” I drank plenty of wine with my sisters, so I knew a thing or two about it. However, Reyka Icelandic Vodka on the rocks was more my speed. “How have the runs gone?”

“Training this week has been good. My calves are tight, and my lower back aches.” She placed her hand on the small of her lumbar region, pointing out exactly where I needed to work. “This is a new pain for me. I think running inside on Wednesday did me in. The weather needs to turn around so I can get out on the streets more, and off the damn treadmill.”

Of course, her lower back needed work. Next, she was probably going to tell me her neck was aching, too. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Alexa hid Kryptonite in her robe. She seemed to know my weaknesses.

“Why don’t we put some heat on it while I work on your legs? Go ahead and lay face down while I get what I need for that.” I walked out of the room and said a quick prayer that she’d grown a hairy mole in the last three days.

*****

Alexa

Luke and his magical fingers were the first thoughts to enter my mind when I opened my eyes this morning. I tried to convince myself I was only interested in him making my aches and pains go away, but really, I just wanted to be around him, and get to know him better. Okay, I couldn’t wait to feel his hands all over my body again.

But surviving my morning was my top priority. First up was a quick run and meeting with Jeff. As I laced my sneakers, Addison and I went over our schedules.

“What’s your day like?” Addison asked as she shoveled Fruit Loops in her mouth.

“I’m running with Jeff for like an hour. Then back here to shower and get ready to meet up with Mrs. Duffy.” I rolled my eyes. If that woman didn’t pay us so handsomely, we would have kicked her pain in the ass to the curb a long time ago.

“What does she need now? I took her out last week,” Addison mumbled around a mouthful.

“A dress for something at the Museum of Fine Arts. Or she just wants to torture me on a Friday.”

Addison laughed out loud, spraying cereal all over the counter.

“What’s your deal today?” I slipped my key inside the mesh pocket, grabbed an energy gel, and filled my water bottle.

“I’ve got to go pick up all the alterations for Ginny and Joe, then drive them out to their place.” The couple lived in a western suburb of Boston in a house big enough to hold four of our apartments. “Then I’ll be working on the books till we head to The Rub Down. I was able to get an appointment at the same time as you.”

“Great, I’ll meet you here at three fifteen, and we’ll head over.” Heading to the door, I yelled over my shoulder. “Have a great day. Catch you on the flip side.”

I met up with Jeff, and gave him the hug he deserved for sending me to Luke. His smirk told me he knew exactly why I was squeezing him. When he looked over my running journal, he praised my endurance and the miles I tacked on, but he encouraged me to work on my speed. I was running about a nine-minute mile, and he wanted me down to eight. Overall, with less than five weeks until the race, he was happy with my progress, and agreed to check with Luke on a regular basis to make sure I didn’t develop any issues.

As we parted ways, we planned to meet tomorrow morning for a long, grueling run. I rushed home to shower and dress, and then enjoyed the ten-minute walk to Copley Plaza for my appointment.

Mrs. Duffy was a classic trophy wife, married to a very nice man who loved showing off his gorgeous young bride. Unfortunately, she was also the type of person who sucked the life out of others.

“That dress is boring.” She waved her hand at the original design and made a sound of disgust. “This is the MFA. I want a dress that looks like art.”

I turned back to the rack, closed my eyes, and counted to ten. Only Mrs. Duffy would complain about a dress
she
chose. Not me. Her. Nothing we discussed was good enough. Every suggestion I made, she struck down in a most vicious way.

“Mrs. Duffy, let’s go see Jorge at ESCADA.” His taste was excellent, and his personality made being with the snooty woman tolerable. I was in the boutique last Friday, talking to my salesmen, and they told me ‘absolutely THE most gorgeous dresses eva’ were coming in this week. “I have it on good authority that several stunning gowns were arriving this week.”

“Fine, but if we can’t find a dress there, I may need to look for new fashion consultants.”

Her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I wasn’t sure how her husband listened to that heinous noise every day, but it made my head throb.

T-minus two hours until Luke’s hands are all over me, relieving my stress from this horrible day.

Within an hour of arriving at ESCADA, and two glasses of champagne later (for her, not me), she purchased a strapless white dress with large red poppies embellishing the skirt, and a black sash to wrap around her small waist. Without a word of thanks, she gave instructions for delivery, and walked out the door. Expressing my utmost gratitude for helping me keep my sanity, I gave Jorge a kiss on each cheek, and the promise of a girls’ night out soon before I rushed home.

When I got back to the apartment, Addison was up my butt about the time.

“Alexa, we’re going to be late.” Addison stood in the kitchen, tapping her foot on the floor, while I stood over the sink, devouring a sandwich. “What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” I mumbled around a mouthful of turkey. “What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” I gulped some juice to wash down the food. “I’m starving, and the last thing I want is for my stomach to growl while I’m getting a massage.”

Addison was a constant burning ball of energy that left me exhausted on a good day, but after my time with Mrs. Duffy, I had no patience for it.

“I just don’t want to be late. You know I hate being late.” Now, she resorted to whining.

T-minus forty-five minutes.

“Call a cab. By the time it gets here, I’ll be ready.” I turned back to my lunch and glass of orange juice.

On the ride over, we decided to do massages, dinner, and then a night out for drinks. She begged me to consider skipping my run tomorrow morning so we could stay out late, but with race day getting closer, being lax about training was not an option.

When we walked in The Rub Down, the look of awe on Addison’s face reminded me of how I felt the other day. We declined Jessica’s offer of a tour, and I showed Addie everything. She thought I was joking about breaking in to get our clothes, but we would have to see if she could figure out the complicated lockers when we finished.

“This place is amazing, Alexa,” Addison whispered as we entered the Zen room. She tilted her head and rubbed her cheek against the lush robe. “Seriously, how have we not been here before?”

“Told you. Wait until you sit there.” I pointed at the couch. “You won’t ever want to get up. I dozed off last time.”

Taking a cab here gave us a few extra minutes, so we grabbed a glass of citrus water, sank into the comfort of the couch, and flipped through an issue of Vogue. Her running commentary on some of the designs reminded me, once again, of her brilliance.

“Hey, Alexa, ready to get a rub down?” Luke appeared in the doorway, looking even hotter than I remembered.

I knew he was trying to be cheeky and funny, but his low, baritone voice made something deep down inside me tingle.

Addison grabbed my arm as her jaw dropped. I understood her reaction since mine had been the same.

“No wonder you’ve been disgustingly happy all week. If I had that man’s hands on me a few times, I would be, too,” she whispered in my ear.

I rolled my eyes at her before standing up and walking out of the room.

After we went over my trouble areas, he left so I could disrobe and crawl under the sheet. I knew I should have drank more water and less wine. Technically, I didn’t lie when I said I had one glass. It just happened to be one of those gag gifts that held an entire bottle.

After a soft knock on the door, Luke came in and set up his oils. The room was a little less romantic than my previous session.

“What’s with the music today? It makes me want to play a game of cricket tennis.”

“What in the hell is cricket tennis? Sounds awfully cruel,” Luke said with a deep-throated chuckle.

“It’s where you take a tennis racket, and instead of a ball, you use crickets. Wow, now that I say it out loud, it sounds awful. We played it all the time growing up,” I explained, laughing at how cruel it was.

“I’m not sorry to say that we didn’t play that evil game. Did you pull the wings off bugs while you were at it?” He chuckled. “Did you grow up around here?” He massaged some cold, wintergreen scented gel on my achy spine, and laid heated rice bags where I was the sorest.

“I grew up in Upstate New York, about two hours north of New York City. It’s a very rural area, so crickets were everywhere. My parents live out on the Cape now, and they still have crickets.” I paused and let out a laugh. “I won’t carry on about how crickets are my nemesis in fear you will think I’m a nut job.”

Wow, shut up, Alexa. He probably thinks you’re a psychopath.

“Ah, that answers that. New Yorkers are crazy people. I didn’t realize crickets were such villains,” Luke said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Let me switch the music for you before I start. Do you have issues with ocean waves?”

Phew. Thank God, he was joking with me about this. Or maybe he was scared I would stab him if he turned his back on me.

“Waves are perfect. I love the beach,” I said.

“Okay, let’s get this party started. I’m going to begin with your legs. Are you comfortable?” Luke was now in therapist mode.

“Yes, I’m great. The heat feels incredible. Thank you.”

I heard Luke add oil to his hands and warm them up before touching my bare skin. Once they made contact, I let out the breath I was holding. His touch felt amazing and comfortable as if he’d been working my skin for years, not minutes. Between the warm rice on my back, and Luke’s fingers massaging my left hamstring in a continuous up and down motion, I could have been lulled to sleep if it wasn’t for the pressure.

When he started deep kneading the tissue, the force became too much, and I winced and tightened my muscles. Luke sensed the change in my body and lightened his stroke.

“Sorry about that, Lex. I got lost in my head for a minute. I typically do sports massages on men, and wasn’t thinking.” He sounded much more remorseful than the situation warranted.

Wait, did he just call me Lex? I’d hated that name ever since the sixth grade when a bully called me that right before she stole my favorite Barbie. Sexy Lexie was another nickname that made me want to punch someone. But the way Luke said it didn’t make me angry. It made me warm from the inside out.

“It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. I’m just being a wuss,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.