Page 10 of Breaking the Ice
“And welcome to the Devils.” With that, he presses the doorknob and disappears into the hallway.
6
Caleb
As I close the door to the massage room behind me and walk down the corridor, I can't help but think, What a woman. Parker was right; Emma is stunning. Her face is flawlessly beautiful. The petite nose, high cheekbones, and those cat-like eyes. I bet she's hiding an amazing figure under that simple cotton pants and shirt. Damn, if I could design a woman, she'd look just like her. She's way too good for Durand, that poser. And even though Parker is my best friend and I want him to have a pretty woman, this one is out of his league. Celebrity status or not. It's pretty intense, but even though I had sex this morning and I'm satisfied, it was a challenge not to get aroused under Emma's delicate hands. If Jess knew what a smoking hot masseuse Bill hired, she'd flip. Better to keep them from meeting. Otherwise, my girlfriend would lose her mind, that's for sure. Speaking of Jessica, I have a lunch date with her at one. That's in less than an hour. I should hurry up with my workout.
As I push myself in the weight room, Emma's image keeps popping into my head. The dimples at the corners of her mouth when she smiles, or the sparkle in her eyes when suspicion sets in. Thinking about how her gentle hands felt on my skin, I accidentally drop a dumbbell inches away from my foot. Shit! Before I injure myself in my absentmindedness, I call it quits on the training. Hydrating with the water bottle, I have with me; I head back to the locker room.
“Hey, Whyler, how's it going?” I'm greeted by Parker, sitting in front of his locker with his gym bag between his legs. A grin stretches across his face from ear to ear.
“What are you doing here at this time?” I ask him, surprised. “The training doesn't start until five.”
“Oh, I just wanted to hit the weight room a bit early,” he says, making me raise an eyebrow. Parker voluntarily in the weight room? No way! He hates lifting weights or pedaling more than any of us. Then I remember what Carl said last night. He insists that his three strongest players, Durand, Parker, and me, get massages daily.
“Let me guess. You're here less for the training and more for the bet, right?”
“What can I say? Flake got me a free flirt with our little masseuse. He wants me to see her every day to avoid strains and stuff. So, I booked an appointment for one o'clock.”
“I see.” Well, tough luck for him, he won't score with Emma. “What time is it, by the way?”
“Quarter to one, why?”
“Damn! I'm meeting Jess. Sorry, buddy, gotta run, catch you later,” I say as I grab my shower gel from the locker and hurry out to the corridor leading to the showers.
***
“Apologies, babe. Traffic getting here was insane,” I lie as I arrive at Passo, our favorite Mexican restaurant, with a twenty-minute delay. Carrying my motorcycle helmet in hand, I approach my girlfriend, who's waiting for me at our usual spot, a cozy corner booth. My words make her look up from her phone, and her features light up when she sees me.
“Hey, sweetheart, there you are,” she greets me with a smile.
“Did you already order?” I ask as I take a seat next to her and place the helmet under the table.
“No, I wanted to wait for you.” Her grumbling stomach fuels my guilt.
“Sorry.”
“It's alright, you're here now.” She leans over to give me a kiss on the lips and signals the waiter to come over. We order our usual. Two Pepsis, a Quesadilla for Jess, and a Yucateca steak with grilled vegetables for me.
“So, spill the beans, what's there to discuss?” I ask once the waiter is out of earshot. I know Jess. If she wants to meet me for lunch during the week, something's on her mind.
“Ooooh,” she squeals, clenching her fists in excitement. “It's about Professor Weinstein.”
“Is that the one who loved your paintings?” Jess is an art student at Reed College. She's a talented illustrator with an incredible eye for detail.
“Uh-huh. He called them outstanding.” Stress marks of excitement appear on Jessica's cheeks. “Listen up! He's planning to organize an exhibition for his top three students. And, Caleb, he asked if I want to be part of it. Me!” She squeaks again, practically lunging at me in excitement, almost knocking over the candle in the center of the table.
“That's fantastic. I'm so happy for you. You deserve it.”
“Yeah, right? I really do,” she says, nodding and releasing me from her embrace. “I mean, I'm top of the class. Just the nude I painted recently...”
While Jess raves about her works, my thoughts drift to Emma. Parker probably hit on her throughout the entire massage. A mental image forms in my mind. I see Emma's delicate fingers spreading warm oil on my buddy's legs and tenderly stroking his skin.
“Caleb? Caleb?!” I blink as my girlfriend looks at me with a furrowed brow, clearly annoyed. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Of course, I'm listening to you.” The waiter who's just brought our drinks saves me. As he places the ice-cold Pepsis in front of us, I reach for my girlfriend's hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, dissipating her anger. “Alright,” she continues as soon as we're alone again. “Susanna and Martin are my two competitors, you could say. They're the other two who get to participate in the exhibition. Mr. Weinstein said...”
I wonder if Durand has already made a move on Emma. No, I don't think he'd take that approach to get to her. He's more of a dating type. I pick up my Pepsi and wash away the sour taste the thought of Durand and Emma conjures.