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keep my pants on for a few more hours.

I want to say no. I want to strip Adley’s jeans and her

baggy, oversized button-down blouse away. I want to run us a

hot shower. A warm bath. Fill up that Jacuzzi. I want to taste

her on the couch. The desk. The bed. The floor…pretty much

anywhere and on anything that will hold us up.

I very reluctantly walk over and take Adley’s hand.

Her knuckles are so delicate, and her palm is always warm and

soft in my own. Her fingers automatically thread through

mine, attaching our hands so they’d be hard to break apart. I

love that she holds onto me like that. That she lets me hold

onto her. The reluctant part is that I have to start steering us

out of the room.

“The massage place needs us to be there fifteen

minutes early, so I guess we should get going. We get a choice

of deep tissue, full body, hot stone…whatever you’d like.”

“I’ve never had one, so I don’t know.”

“I’d recommend the hot stone. Or maybe the full body

massage, but you can tell them not to get too into it so it

doesn’t wreck you. The deep tissue kind of hurts after. And the

next day. And the next. I’ve strained my back or just been

really sore sometimes and I’ve gone for those massages, and

they’re great for helping you with that, but I’ve had a couple

too when I didn’t have any aches and pains, and it actually

wasn’t that pleasant.”

“Okay. Hot stone sounds interesting.”

“I’ll do that too, if you’re having it.”

“Okay.”

“I’d say it’s more for relaxation, but what do I really

know? I’m not a massage therapist. I could be totally wrong