Page 54 of Something Borrowed

He laughs. “You are the source ofallunselfishness in the world.”

“You know it.” I tap his leg. “Anyway, out of the goodness of my heart, I’m going to massage your calf. What did you think I was doing? Open heart surgery?”

His lip twitches. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t take that exam module when we were at school.”

“I probably had a promising surgical career in front of me, but the school cut me off in my scientific prime.”

“Could that have had more to do with the fact that you failed GCSE Biology? If you’d been given a scalpel to do an appendectomy you’d probably have operated on my jawbone.”

“It’s looking like an attractive proposition at the moment,” I say just to hear him laugh.

I rest my hands on his calf and my smile fades away under a surge of lust. It’s been so long since I was this close and touching him. His skin is hot beneath my hands, and I lean over watching raptly as my fingers slide along his muscular calf.

I realise he’s gone quiet and looking up I swallow hard at the stark look on his face. To anyone else he might look austere, but I know that expression now. It’s lodged in my memory and impossible to shake off. This is Stan’s turned-on face.

“You don’t have to—" He stops talking and sucks in a noisy gasp of air as I dig my fingers into the muscle and rub downwards. “Oh god, that’s really good,” he whispers.

I swallow hard and remind myself sternly that we’re in a public place and he’s not mine anyway. Clearing my throat I move back a little to make my massage as impersonal as I can manage.

“How does that feel?” I ask, glad that my voice isn’t reflecting my feelings. It’s light and happy now with no sign of turmoil.

He’s silent for so long that I look at him anxiously, but his face is blank. “Good,” he finally says. He sniffs. “Maybe you could branch into this if the wedding planning doesn’t work out.”

“It might be a good idea because I’m pretty sure you don’t have to wear a top hat to massage someone,” I observe, rubbing behind his knee. The muscle is very tight.

“I don’t know about that. Maybe for special massages that come with happy endings.”

I snort. “So, you’ve moved my employment prospects from massage therapist to hooker. The world should be happy you never branched into career management.”

A middle-aged couple approaches us on the path, but they slow to a stop when they’re standing behind us. I twist to see what they’re doing and then blink in surprise as the woman grimaces in apparent disgust and then tuts.

“Disgusting,” she says in a voice just loud enough for me to hear. “To do that openly on the streets isshocking,” she continues, her voice high with indignation. “What is this country coming to?”

For a second I wonder if she’s talking about someone else, but she’s glaring at my hands on Stan’s leg so it’s obvious that we’ve been cast as the baddies in her Sodom and Gomorrah scenario.

Stan cocks his head. “Is she talking aboutus?” he asks, astonishment written clearly on his face.

I roll my eyes and carry on massaging his calf. “Just ignore her.”

“She’s talking like we’re committing public indecency.” His lip quirks and he whispers, “Did you take your clothes off during this sports massage and forget to tell me?”

“Very funny.” He chuckles and I smile at him, but my grin vanishes as the male half of the prude partnership steps up to bat.

“There are private rooms for what you’re doing, young man.”

I sigh feeling very aggrieved at all this misplaced attention. “I know. I’m meeting your mum in one later.”

Stan’s snort breaks the stunned silence that seems to have settled amongst us.

The man finally splutters, “Ibegyour pardon.”

“You heard,” I reply. “All I’m doing is massaging my friend’s tight calf. Mind your own business and move on.” He shakes his head and takes his companion’s arm as they move away. “Lovely to meet you,” I call. “Wemustdo this again sometime.”

“Wanker,” Stan says succinctly.

“There’s no need to get personal,” I tell him. “I was just riding to your rescue like a particularly hot knight.”

“A gobby one. You should have just ignored them.”

---