"Arkansas."
"The Natural State," I murmured, not sure where the fuck that random fact came from, but glad for it when her eyes lit with surprise, a small smile curving her plush lips as she nodded.
"That's right."
My fingers twitched and I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans, unintentionally pushing the material a few centimeters down my hips. I didn't miss the way her eyes flickered to my waist before finding my eyes again and I grinned. "What brought you to the Bayou City?"
She didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at me with an expression I didn't know how to read, but then she cleared her throat and said, "I needed to be somewhere more…tolerant."
My ears perked up at that and it felt like a code. Was she trying to tell me something? I hope so, because the last thing I wanted was to finally take an interest in someone only for her to turn out straight.
While talking to Trisha, everyone else had faded into the background until it felt like it was just the two of us standing here having a conversation. As I tried to think of a response to her answer, Jade looked between me and Trisha before reaching into her purse and pulling out a business card and ink pen. After scribbling something on the back of the card, she handed it to me. Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes from her coworker down to the scrap of cardstock in my hand while Jade spoke.
"We work at the same spa, and while Kneaded does accept walk-ins, appointments are the best way to guarantee that you see your preferred therapist."
At her inflection, I met her knowing gaze and quirked a brow. There was no guesswork necessary that time; Jade was definitely trying to tell me something. Glancing back at the card she'd handed me, I flipped it over to find Trisha's name scrolled in loopy cursive above a phone number that didn't match the one on the front of the card. Immediately, I once again looked up at Jade, and when our eyes met this time, she winked at me.
"Thanks. I'll be sure to use this." Slipping the card into my back pocket, I quickly covered my mouth as a large yawn overtook me. "Oh, shit. My bad y'all."
Shad shook his head. "Naw, you're good. On that note we will definitely be getting out of here. The show was dope as usual."
Nodding my thanks, I bid them goodbye and tried to stifle a second yawn. Once they were gone I rubbed a hand down my face and turned to my brother who wore a grin a mile wide on his face.
"Did I just witness a love connection?"
Rolling my eyes, I pushed past him to head back to my dressing room and collect my things so that I could go home. "Zay, shut up."
Five
Trisha
When You Phone a Friend
Me: So…I'm in love.
Lee: …
Lee: ALREADY?????
Me: ALL! READY!
Lee: I just left a week ago and you hadn't even met anyone! We talked on Wednesday and you didn't mention anyone! Who is she? He??
Me: SHE is someone I met at that concert my coworker invited me to.
Lee: The XENO concert?!
Me: Yessssss!
Lee: OK wait. How was the show? You know J *still* won't stop talking about the one he went to last year. Was it as good as he's making it seem?
Me: Lee. Everything he's been saying, it was two Virgil times better.
Lee: a) I hate you for that reference 2) It was *that* good?
Me: It. Was. Amazing! I'm a converted fan.
Lee: Wooooow! I guess I'm jealous now.
Me: As you should be.
Lee: W.E. trick! Back to you being in love…
Me: As much as I'd like to wax poetically about my emotions for a stranger, I have to go. I have an appointment.
Lee: wooooooooooooooow. This is very trifling of you.
Me: Sowwy friend. I gotta go make money.
Lee: So nasty. So rude.
Me: Love you, boo! ttyl!
Lee: Begrudgingly, I love you too.
Six
Trisha
When You Slap It, Flip It, Rub It Down
It had been almost two weeks since the concert and subsequent meet and greet, and I couldn't get Xeno off of my mind. Jade confessed that she had written my number on the back of her business card before she gave it to Xeno, and from the way the other woman had looked at me, I expected her to call.
She didn't.
With each day that passed without hearing from her, I became more annoyed with myself for even getting my hopes up. Xeno was a fucking rapper—a fine ass one at that—and probably, definitely, had a gang of women throwing themselves at her on a regular basis. I hadn't even flirted, let alone given her any hint that I was interested, so why would she call me? For all she knew, I was just another starstruck woman in a long line of random fans who were just trying to touch somebody famous.
Exasperated that I was once again thinking about that night, I took a few minutes to do some deep breathing, clearing my mind and releasing the anxiety and frustration I felt. I had my last scheduled appointment of the day in a few minutes and then I could go home and moan about it, but right now the last thing I wanted was to transfer any negative energy into a client while administering a massage. When I felt calmer, I dimmed the lights in the room that served as my "office" and grabbed the file folder from the basket on the wall outside my door on my way to collect my client from the waiting area. As I walked, I flipped through the client's profile, trying to get an idea of what their issues were.
According to the client profile that everyone had to fill out prior to their appointment, she had a lot of tension in her shoulders and wanted me to focus there. That sounded easy enough, but most people tended to only pay attention to areas where they had noticeable pain and were unaware of other places in their body that were simply one poor stretch away from getting to that point. As I rounded the corner and entered the dimly lit waiting area, I flipped back to the beginning of the profile so that I could address my client by name and came to an abrupt halt. The paperwork said that an…Oxen Recoop had booked a seventy-five minute session with me, but my brain immediately unscrambled the letters and told my heart that Xeno Cooper was the one waiting for me.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze from the file in my hands until it landed on the sole other person in the waiting area. She stared at me expectantly, a neutral expression on her face and my heart rate sped up.
"Oxen?" I called hesitantly; my usually assertive voice hidden somewhere beneath a sliver of hope.
"That's me."
She unfolded her long body from the plush armchair and sauntered toward me, an easy grin full of mirth easing onto her face. The closer she got, the harder my heart pounded, until I was fighting to keep my breathing even and the back of my neck was damp with a thin sheen of sweat. It was her.
Xeno.
Dressed in a pair of mesh basketball shorts and another of those plain white tees, she was as fine as I'd remembered. Instead of wearing a ponytail, her long locs were twisted into a bun on top of her head, exposing the smooth expanse of her neck and bringing my attention to her pierced ears. In each lobe was a small gold hoop that matched the chain around her neck. Her entire look was understated, but her presence was just as commanding as it had been the night of her show. She exuded big strap energy and I simply could not handle it. Surely it would be unprofessional of me to lay on the table and spread my legs for a client. Since I'd just started this job, I probably needed to reel it the fuck in.
When Xeno reached me, I spun on my heel and started back down the hall.
"Right this way."
I didn't have to look back to know that she was following me; I felt her presence as if it were a cloak around my shoulders. As we walked, I asked her the standard questions that I asked each client to get a better idea of what they wanted. Not everything could fit on the two short lines printed on their profile.
"What brought you in today?"
"Well," she began, "somebody told me you were the best massage therapist in the city and I only want the best so…"
With pursed lips, I glanced
at her, then stood aside at the door to the room and gestured for her to enter first. "He did not say that I was the best."
She smirked at me, her arm brushing mine as she stepped inside of the room. "I definitely remember him saying that. He also said that you were single and ready to mingle."
My mouth fell open and I let out a huff of laughter. How was I supposed to keep it reeled in when she was flirting with me? I wasn't a damn saint.
"Your profile said you were open to aromatherapy, so let me go ahead and pull out the lemon and frankincense to help with your memory issues." I went to the two-door cabinet above the small sink and pulled out two tiny vials of oil from the dozen or so that I'd brought with me during the move. Each vial was labeled and arranged in alphabetical order.
Standing on one side of the table, Xeno quirked an eyebrow at me. "So, are you saying that you aren't single?"
Who wants to know was on the tip of my tongue but I swallowed it down. Her presence answered many of the questions I'd had since the night of the concert, and her playful manner tugged at my flirtatious nature—freaking yanked at it—but I was at work. This wasn't the place for bantering back and forth. Spinning around to face her, I shook my head, a smile on my lips. "You're very straightforward."
She nodded, eyes on my face, unnerving me with the way I had her full attention. "And you're avoiding the question. I can be pretty generous but the one thing I won't do is help somebody cheat."
"There's no home—happy or otherwise—to break here. Now, can you please take off your clothes?"
Her face lit up; eyes crinkled with amusement. "And you called me straightforward?"
One hand on my waist, I rolled my eyes at how fucking cute she was with her bow-shaped lips curved into a smile that showed her white teeth, and a small, dark brown beauty mark above her top lip. I was trying and failing not to just stand there staring at her. After I'd spent so much time thinking about this woman, now that she was here in front of me, I was annoyed by how starstruck I was, and my annoyance made me snippy. I was a mess.
I dabbed a couple of drops of oil from each vial onto the terrycloth fabric that covered the foldable headrest attached to the top of the table, then returned both vials to the cabinet and walked to the door. "You can place your clothes in the chair in the corner. If you choose to, it's perfectly okay to leave your underwear on; whatever you decide is fine. Get under the sheet and lay face down on the table with your head in the ring. I'm going to step out to give you some privacy and I'll be back in a few minutes." I left the room before she could respond, pulling the door shut softly behind me.
While standing in the hallway, I took an extra two minutes on top of the usual five to finish getting myself together. Xeno fucking Cooper had booked an appointment with me and was currently disrobing so that she could lay naked on my table! Someone whose music I'd heard on the radio back home—who stayed in rotation in J's truck. Even though she wasn't Top 40, Xeno was well known in Houston, and whatever was hot in Houston quickly became well known back home.
It sounded like a big fucking deal—and it was—but I needed to handle this moment like I would for any other client. As a professional, I needed to be able to treat each and every one of my clients with the same respect as I would for someone who had come in off the street for a walk-in appointment. Celebrity or not; locally famous or nationally known; it didn't matter. When they were on my table, everyone was the same.
When I opened the door to the room, I was decidedly less freaked out. The ambiance helped in a major way as well. With the lights dim, the soothing sound of singing bowls crooning from a speaker mounted in one of the corners of the ceiling, and the faint scent of the frankincense in the air, I was calmer in no time.
"Let me know if you'd like me to increase or decrease the amount of pressure I'm using."
She didn't say anything but nodded to show that she'd heard me, and for that, I was grateful. I pumped two squirts of oil into my palm from the bottle on a side table and rubbed my hands together to warm it up. At this point, there was really no need for further conversation. I spent the next half hour manipulating her body with my hands; kneading her muscles and paying extra attention to her shoulders and calves. She'd indicated on her profile that those areas held the most tension for her, likely because of how often she performed, standing on her feet and holding a microphone.
Every so often I would come across a knot of tension and as I'd dig into it with my thumbs, a soft moan or throaty hiss would slip out of her mouth. For all of my insistence on being professional, I couldn't deny how each sound out of her mouth turned me on.
At the halfway mark, I instructed her to flip onto her back. She did so, her eyes open and on me as she settled into place and I tucked the sheet under her body to prevent seeing her nudity. Unnerved by her quiet stare and the unknown meaning behind it, I decided against starting at her head this time around. With oiled hands, I grasped one of her long, narrow feet and pressed my thumbs against her heel. Instantly, she jerked out of my hold, her knee bent in half and her foot lifted off of the table. I gave her a sharp look to find that one of her arms was now draped across her face, covering her eyes.
So she was ticklish? I filed that information away for later and gripped her ankle, pulling her foot back down to the table. I patted the top of her foot. This was a common occurrence in my line of work and I'd found that the best way to move past the moment was to address the issue without bringing too much attention to it. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass her for something she couldn't control.
"It's fine," I said softly so as not to disturb the relaxing vibe in the room. "I'll skip your feet."
Again, she said nothing, nodding stiffly before lowering her arm back to the table, her fist clenched at her side. Without giving myself a chance to second guess the inclination, I moved back up the table and grabbed her hand in mine. Starting in the center of her palm, I pushed and pulled until her arm relaxed and her fingers drooped. I worked my way up her arm and spent a few minutes on her neck and the back of her head. Skipping over her torso, I moved onto her thighs and legs. Soon the remaining half hour had elapsed and I was gently tapping Xeno on the shoulder to let her know the session was over. Her breathing had slowed so drastically that I thought she had fallen asleep.
When she stirred and nodded in understanding, I left the room so that she could redress. The door opened and she stepped out of the room with an easy smile on her face that immediately elicited an answering grin from me.
"How do you feel?" I asked in a low voice, pushing off the wall across the hall from the room and handing her a paper cup of cold water.
She stretched, reaching her arms into the air, her fingers brushing the top of the doorframe, the action causing her shirt to rise and expose a sliver of her smooth skin above the waistband of her shorts. Unable to help myself, I flicked a quick glance at the flash of brown and unconsciously licked my lips before meeting her gaze just as she reached for the cup and began to answer my question.
Tilting the cup back, she drained its contents and crushed the flimsy thing in her hand. "I feel fantastic; my joints feel loose as hell." Her lips curved into an even deeper grin and I bit my lip because damn she was so fucking sexy. "That was the best massage I've ever received."
With wide eyes, I ducked my head and gazed at my shoes. "Wow, thank you."
We stood there in silence for a moment while I tried to think of something to say to keep her in my presence for a little while longer, but then the feel of her stare pulled my focus from the floor up to her. Our eyes met and my heart leaped into my throat at the look on her face. The smile had disappeared but she didn't look angry; she looked...thoughtful. I wanted so desperately to know what was on her mind, and I opened my mouth to ask the question but another therapist at the spa crossed between me and Xeno with a client hot on her heels, effectively wiping the words from my mind as I remembered where we were.
We were standing in the massage wing of a busy spa in the mid
dle of the day like we didn't have a care in the world. As if I didn't need to clean the room before going to the front and checking to see if someone had walked-in without an appointment. Shaking my head, I fanned my hand in the direction of the lobby area.
"Um, let me walk you up front." I started down the hallway but stopped fast when she spoke out.
"I want to see you again."
Spinning around to face her, I raised my brows. That sliver of hope from earlier flared to life and I fought to tamp it down. "You mean…like another appointment?"
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts and leveled me with a straightforward look that did nothing to ease the pounding in my chest. "Naw; I mean like on a date. I want to take you out. Can I do that?"
"Hell fucking yes you can!"
Both mine and Xeno's head swung around to see Jade stepping out of a room just down the hall in the same direction that the other therapist and their client had gone. She walked toward us and nudged my shoulder, a huge grin on her face as she ignored the look I gave her and nodded at Xeno.
"Hey, it's good to see you again. Glad you could slide through and get blessed by Trisha's gifted hands."
"Oh my God," I groaned. "Please chill."
Xeno laughed. "Jade, right?" When Jade nodded excitedly, Xeno continued. "Thanks again for that information. Her hands are inarguably gifted."
My face warmed, more from the tone of her voice than the compliment, but before I could issue my own thanks, Jade once again spoke ahead of me.
"You're welcome. And like I said, you can definitely take her out. She's single and free for a night out. What day are you thinking, I can make sure she's off."
"Uh…" Xeno glanced at me but my eyes were on Jade.
"Ma'am, you gotta chill. For real." Turning to Xeno I said, "I'm sorry about her. She's apparently still starstruck and has forgotten her manners."
Things Hoped For Page 5
