Page 46 of Already Falling

“I am so excited to have all my problems massaged away. I can feel Dane like a knot in my neck. I want to feel like a new woman,” Chloe exclaims as we head inside.

We both fill out a few forms with some information and circle a diagram of a human to point out our pain points. The receptionist leads us to the massage room, and the calming music follows us inside. Chloe and I giggle as we put our clothes in baskets and go under the blankets on each of our massage tables. The room is large, with two massage beds on either side. I notice a hot stone container and some massage oils on a counter. The blankets on the massage table are soft and cozy. I snuggle my head into the opening for my face and take a few deep breaths, letting the lavender scent in the air relax my ruminating mind.

We hear a knock on the door, and a therapist enters. She says her name is Nancy and that the other therapist will be in shortly. I hear her shuffle over to Chloe. Shortly after, another pair of footsteps comes in and heads over to me. They don’t say their name, but I don’t question it. They seem eager to get the massage going, so I take a few more deep breaths and relax.

I can tell it is a guy massaging me because his hands are large and move with firm pressure. He asks me if the pressure is good, and he sounds like a warm cup of apple cider. I can feel goosebumps prick up under his touch. He asks again, and I nod my head quickly. I suddenly lose the ability to speak, flustered by a man’s voice. I don’t even know what he looks like, but if the sound of his voice and the way he moves his hands along my neck is any indication, he’s the most beautiful man on Earth. He starts the massage with a blanket still covering my back. It feels nice and warm as he eases into the massage. He works my shoulders and down to my lower back. Pushing against diagonal points, stretching my back out. I don’t mean to let out some moans, but it feels amazing. I need to get a massage every month. This is a heavenly experience.

He starts to pull away the blanket, and I feel him pause at my middle back. Oh no, do I have a pimple on my back? Is he absolutely repulsed at the sight? Oh god, I just realized I forgot to shave my legs! This hot man is going to rub my hairy calves. He suddenly drops the blanket, mutters something to the other therapist, and leaves the room, leaving me stranded on the table. What the heck just happened? Are my hairy legs really that hideous?

I feel the female therapist’s hand gently touch my upper back and say the other therapist wasn’t feeling well and had to step out. She offers to put some hot stones on my back while she finishes the massage with Chloe, and they can reimburse my appointment. I’m honestly enjoying just lying here with this yoga music playing on their speakers, so I accept the offer. I am just glad it was my therapist that wasn’t feeling well and not Chloe’s. She needs this massage more than I do.

Reid

I lose track of time and shuffle into the room quickly. The two women are already lying down, and Nancy, the other massage therapist, started her massage already. The woman I start massaging is tense as I try to relax her with the blanket on her back first. She lets out little moans and sighs that make my body react very inappropriately. I pull the blanket back and see a little tattoo. It’s a small little box on the corner of her back. No way, it can’t be. Is that a stamp tattoo?

That tiny stamp tattoo is etched in my brain. Of course, I’ll never forget the first time I saw it, sitting on the beach in San Diego as she turned her shoulder around to show me while I tried to refrain from giving it a little kiss. I remember having my hand over it as I pulled her closer to me during the movie night.

It feels like an eternity passes as I freeze in place, looking at the cutout edges and slightly faded ink with the little number eighteen on the inside. My eyes trail up to the woman under the tattoo. She has shoulder-length black hair in two pigtail braids, and I nearly collapse. It can’t be her. That’s when I look up to see the other woman, a young blond girl with wild hair gathered in a large bun. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. It’s her. I panic, drop the blanket, and motion to Nancy that I’m not feeling well, dashing out of the room and seeking refuge in the break room.

Annika

The hot stones feel nice, but after about five minutes, I’m starting to get a bit antsy and decide I want to step out of the room to change. The other therapist quietly apologizes again, and I mouth to her it’s no worries. I mean, yeah, I’m disappointed, but I can’t control if someone isn't feeling well. It’s not Nancy’s fault the other therapist left her hanging. Nancy helps me get a warm robe on and says I can take my basket of clothes to the women’s dressing room around the corner to change and relax until Chloe is done.

I quietly slip out of the room and head down the hall to find the dressing room. Just as I turn the corner, I see someone head toward me and stop in their tracks. From the look of their shoes, it must be my massage therapist because Nancy had the same shoes on. As my eyes trail up, a familiar flutter awakens in my stomach. This feeling has been dormant for a long time, but I’ll never forget it.

My gaze dances around the stubble of his chin and the sweeps of brown hair curling out from under his logo cap. Finally, they land on his green eyes. He is so grown up and yet the same boy I was smitten with at nine years old. Then it hits me, he was my massage therapist. He touched my butt! My cheeks burn, and my eyebrows jump up on my forehead, which must signal Reid to turn and flee. I do the same and run into a room I hope is the women’s dressing room.

That can’t be him, can it? I try to remember where he moved to after college. I remember hearing he moved north to work with a family member, but Isaac and Reid stopped staying in touch around the time Isaac and I briefly dated.

I change back into my clothes and leave the robe in the basket against a wall in the dressing room. Now to plan my escape. I am a twenty-four-year-old woman, still running away from her childhood crush. Sheesh, I need to grow up. But that day can be tomorrow because I am not ready to face the uncomfortable reality that the boy whose heart I broke just had his hands roaming all over my body only twenty minutes ago. Possibly the most intimate moment he and I have ever shared. The reminder of his hands pressed along my back warms my skin, and I feel a pulse in my core. My lack of sex is starting to catch up with me. I need to get some fresh air. I peek out from the dressing room and see the hall is empty. Quickly, without looking side to side, I dash for the receptionist.

“Oh, Miss Gomes, how was your massage?” The receptionist, Claire, as the name tag reads, asks before I make my great escape.

“It was all right, my therapist left early, but Nancy said she would fill you in. I’m going to go for a walk and come back when my friend is done.” I wave and bolt out the door before Claire has the opportunity to respond.

Reid

Well, shit.

What is she doing here? Did she track me down? I highly doubt it, considering she looked just as surprised to see me as I was her. As soon as she looked at me, I saw the color drain out of her face, and she quickly ran into the Men’s dressing room. I let my cowardice take over and turned to flee to my own safe space, the break room. I feel dizzy, and like I’m catching a fever. I should be angry at her.

I know she felt the same way about me, and she just couldn’t own up to it. She didn’t know what she wanted, and she just took advantage of my feelings. Then when she matched me on Flame, it felt like she grabbed the knife that was already stuck in my heart and twisted it. And yet, when I see her bundled in the spa robe, her shiny black hair pulled into two braided pigtails, reminding me of the spunky girl I crushed on but now in a woman's body standing before me. I want to pull her towards me and into my arms. Kiss her and twirl her around, singing and laughing. I want what we didn’t end up having.

It’s been about ten minutes of me sitting alone in the break room, trying to let the meditation-bowls music settle my nerves. I contemplate never leaving the break room for the rest of my life. There’s a couch I can sleep on, and people leave their lunch in the fridge for sustenance. It wouldn’t be an exciting life, but at least I would be safe and never get heartbroken ever again.

I take a deep breath and peek out the door. Hallways are empty, so I quietly walk down to the reception. I quickly decide in the thirty-second walk that if I see Annika, I will own up to it and say hi to her. I don’t have to make a big thing out of it. So we went on two and a half dates in college, and that was ages ago. We are adults now. For all I know, she’s married by now. I wouldn’t know. I abandoned social media after that Flame interaction we had. I hear some conversation happening in the reception and just bite the bullet and walk right to the entrance. As I do, Claire, the receptionist, and the woman she’s talking to turn their head over to me.

Claire gets up and leans in to make sure the other woman can’t hear. “Oh, Reid, Nancy told me you weren’t feeling well.” But she’s cut off after the woman, clearly eavesdropping, squeals and shouts my name.

“Reid!? Like the Reid Parker? What are the odds?”

That’s what I’m saying. I look up and see it’s Chloe, of course. She and Annika are an inseparable duo. Chloe flies over to me and squeezes me in for a hug. I think I’ve hung out with Chloe only a few times, at parties or between classes, and each time she would give me the biggest hug. It is endearing, but I’m not eager to return her hug. She must sense my tension and pulls away from me.

Smiling and collecting her ash blond curls back into a giant bun on the top of her head, she says, “It’s so good to see you. This place is amazing. Nancy gives the best massage. Have you seen Annika? I think she ran out of here. She must not have been feeling well.”

“I’m glad you had a great session, and no, I haven’t seen her.” I try to step back slowly so I can go back to living in the break room.

Chloe pulls out her phone and turns quickly to look out the window. I follow her gaze and see Annika across the street at the coffee shop, the Human Bean. She’s sitting at one of their tables outside with her head angled down to her hands on the table. There are two coffee cups next to her. I’m guessing one is for Chloe. I see her check her phone and look up toward the center. The windows of the center are mirrored so we can see out, but anyone on the street cannot see in. I’m suddenly grateful for the windows because I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Even from here, I can see her dark brown eyes that I always seem to get lost in.