Less Ordinary by Kris Ripper

Author:Kris Ripper [Ripper, Kris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kris Ripper

Chapter Thirteen

HE LIKED HIS job. Actually, he loved his job, with this sort of uncomfortable caveat that sometimes he got a little bored with it.

Could you love something and also be bored with it? Probably, right?

He loved working with his clients. Most of them. He had some favorites, and he had some who challenged him—physically, not personality-wise, though he had those too. In the eight years since he got into massage work, he’d felt inspired, enamored, frustrated, exhilarated, and probably a lot of other emotions.

Lately, though, he’d just felt tired. And there was something a little…painful about it. About touching all these people in this totally appropriate unidirectional way, when he didn’t have any of that in his life.

Not the unidirectional kind of touch. The multidirectional kind of touch. Exchange of touch. Whatever it was.

He kept losing focus, too, which wasn’t really like him. At least, not with massage. Adam might be completely ADHD everywhere else, but when he was working on someone, he was totally present, totally in the moment. (Which Beccs had told him once was a legit ADHD thing, being attentive to this thing or that thing, but not being able to turn it on for other stuff. God, he missed her so fucking much. Shit, he was drifting again.)

Last client of the day. He didn’t think anyone noticed how scattered he was, or at least no one had mentioned it. Which actually? Was a little disturbing. Since he felt like he was functioning at like 20% normal power.

His 20% and his 100% were apparently interchangeable. Awesome.

He retreated to the staff lounge in the shared practice. The semi-newish massage therapist Priscilla was the only one there, and shot him a grin.

“You look like you had a long day.”

More like a long year. “Longish.”

“You want to get a drink before going home? I could definitely use the company.”

Playful flirtation used to be one of his default modes, though not recently. He shook his head. “No, thanks. Gotta hit the gym.”

“Oh! Which gym do you go to?”

“It’s, uh, private. A friend of mine runs it.”

“Oooh fancy.” She reached out, giving his shoulders a squeeze. “I have a few minutes if you want a quickie before you go. Heading to the gym with warm muscles is always better than the alternative!”

Christ, crap, fuck, shit, did she just— He was so utterly bowled over by her hands on him that for an embarrassingly long moment he thought she meant quickie-quickie. Not quickie-massage-quickie.

Adam swallowed his frayed nerve endings and shook his head. “No—no thanks.”

She squeezed again (was she flirting now? was she offering something else?) and said, “Cool. Well, let me know if you ever want a hand. I’m gonna take off. See you tomorrow, Adam.”

That was it. She was going.

He waved, casually, two beats too late, at her back.

What was that? An innocent offer? A come-on? Everyone knew he had a partner, but Priscilla hadn’t been around that long, and just because someone was flirting, didn’t mean they were offering, Adam knew that better than most people.

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