Hothead (Irresistible 4)

He kept his eyes on me for several seconds, still massaging himself before asking, “What?”

“Massage you,” I said, my cheeks burning because it sounded so damned sensual even when I didn’t mean it that way. “Not in a weird way or anything,” I added, making the situation a hundred times more awkward. Come on, Evie. You already said it. Just own it. “It’s just I’m known among my group of friends as the go-to girl for this. I got good at massage therapy growing up because my sister… had these aches,” I said hastily, trying to skip over the mention of Kaylie. “So anyway, I know how to handle muscle pain. It’s just an offer, Drew.”

He stared up at me, his lips curling into a sneer.

“Could’ve sworn you just made a new rule about how we touch each other behind closed doors.”

“Massages don’t have to be sexual. I just told you I gave massages to my sister, for God’s sake, and you get rubbed down every day by presumably a dude you’re not sexually attracted to, so.” I shrugged, smiling a bit because the huff of air he let out sounded something like laughter. “I don’t know, Drew, I’m just trying to be nice. I’m trying to help.”

“Fine. Then do it.”

I blinked in surprise.

“Fine,” I said, just to disguise my own uneasiness.

Really though, Evie. What were you thinking?

It seemed like an obvious thing to me at the time. He was hurting. I was good at this. I wanted to make up for the mess that was tonight.

But I could feel my heart beating out of control as I prepared to kneel in front of Drew’s wide-parted legs. There was no smile on his face but I read the look of amusement in his eyes as I stood over him, trying to figure out if there was a less sexual position I could do this in.

Of course, the answer was no.

So after about twelve seconds of hesitation, I got on my knees. Before I could even let myself process how much it looked like I was about to blow him, I held his ankle with one hand. With my other hand, I cupped the back of his calf, applying pressure as I pushed my thumb up the line of where his bone and muscle came together.

He groaned in such pain I snapped my hands back.

“That hurt?” I asked apologetically. He blew out a long breath.

“Yes, but it felt good.”

I bit my lip, taking a second to shake off the throaty breathlessness of his voice.

“I should keep going?”

“Yes.”

So I did, keeping track of his every twitch and groan to get a better understanding of what felt good or not. I put all my focus on those powerfully muscled legs, looking at nothing else but my own hands because I knew Drew was watching me.

His attention was rapt on me, and it felt like he was trying to figure me out. I wasn’t just good at massages – I was fucking stellar. A “miracle worker” according to Aly, Mike, Hillary and a dozen other friends who’d experienced my back rubs.

No one would expect this kind of strength from my slender hands. I knew that, and I knew Drew was getting reluctantly curious about me. I could feel him wanting to know where this skill came from without having to ask, but after another few minutes of silence, he caved.

“Why are you so good at this?” It was slightly more accusation than compliment.

“I told you. My sister.”

“Why did she have aches?”

“I don’t know. She just had… bad legs.”

“Was she elderly, this sister of yours?”

I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes.

“She was sick,” I said curtly. “Also, I know you love giving me a hard time, but people have real feelings and real sore spots, and maybe you should just read the room sometimes and recognize when you shouldn’t ask any more questions. You’re not the only one who doesn’t want to talk about certain topics.”

I didn’t look up to see his reaction, and it was silent for another few minutes.