The Masseuse by Sierra Kincade

Author:Sierra Kincade [Kincade, Sierra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, General
ISBN: 9780698182813
Google: nO6yAwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00INIXQBG
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2014-12-02T06:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

I couldn’t break up with him in the morning. It was a blur anyway—I was exhausted, and he had to be back at Mr. Stein’s early. We didn’t talk about what had happened during the night, and I was grateful for that. He dropped me off at my apartment and promised to call when he had a chance. Part of me wondered if he was feeling the same itch to run that I was.

I was grateful for the distraction at work. As Mr. Stein had requested, I had an appointment this evening with him—the time was sent via text by Ms. Rowe. But until then, I had eight hours to figure out what to do about Alec Flynn.

Ten o’clock found me slumped in Amy’s chair, getting my hair twisted into a messy over-the-shoulder braid while I peeled the cardboard sleeve off my coffee.

“Are you going to tell me, or do I get to guess?” Amy finally said.

“I love him,” I blurted out, without looking up. “And I’m going to break up with him tonight.”

“That’s a little confusing.” Amy added the finishing touches to my hair, as if I’d just told her it looked like it might rain outside.

“You’re telling me.”

“If you love him, why are you breaking up with him?”

“Because it’s the smart thing to do.”

“Oh,” she nodded knowingly. “Was that in your horoscope? Bad love in Mercury’s ninth house, better break up with the hot guy you’re dating.”

I gave her a nasty look. “Don’t be mean.”

“Don’t be stupid.” She frowned. “Look, I love you, but you can’t keep dropping everything every time things start going well. Most people wait until they go bad before doing that.”

“I’m not most people,” I said.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “I know. But sooner or later you’re going to get tired of running.”

I pondered this as I made my way toward the front desk to greet my first client. Derrick, looking very fierce in his retro black boots and striped tee, informed me I had been double-booked at eleven, but that one of my clients could come back during lunch if I was willing to skip my break, which I was. The busier I was, the better.

“Now that that’s settled,” he said, pulling me off to the side. “I saw your sexy client last night.”

I groaned, taking this for one of Derrick’s sarcastic jokes. “Melvin Herman came here?”

“No.” Derrick shook his head emphatically. “Not Melvin. The other guy. Tall, hair like an Abercrombie model, perfect teeth.”

I swallowed. Alec did have perfect teeth.

“Alec Flynn,” I said.

“That’s it. Shame he isn’t gay; he was getting cozy with some redhead.”

“He was, was he?” I muttered.

I realized Charlotte wasn’t the only redhead in the world, but it seemed a little too coincidental they’d be out together after the last time I saw them at Mr. Stein’s house.

I busied myself straightening the comment cards. “Where did you see him?”

“At Peaches, down on the waterfront. Shady place, not my usual scene, but I like the bartender. We met last week at .

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