Page 90 of Just Friends
Jax
Niko held the door open, ushering me and Reavo inside. “After you.”
I went in first. I walked into what felt like a blistering summer day in Arizona—dry, scorching heat. A piny, slightly sweet evergreen scent filled my senses. The whole room was made of wood: the benches, the floors, the walls, even the ceiling, too. The well-crafted benches, which had three tiers, were arranged around the room’s centerpiece: a wood stove, with massive lava stones neatly stacked on top of it. Behind the stove was a massive window that offered a view of the estate’s gorgeous, tree-covered garden.
Reavo walked in and groaned. “Great. It’s already five thousand degrees in here.”
Niko followed us in and shut the door. Not a second later, the Russian threw his swimming trunks down to his ankles and kicked them aside.
“Didn’t see the sign out there, did you, bud?” Reavo asked, folding his arms. “No nudity allowed.”
“Inbanya?Nudity,” Niko said defiantly as he strode buck-naked through the room. Sitting as close to the piping-hot stove as he could, he sat his bare ass down right on the wooden bench and relaxed, legs spread apart and a smirk on his face. He was loving this.
“Not even gonna wear a towel, huh?” Reavo asked.
“Why wear towel? We see each other naked in locker room all the time.”
“Because you’re gonna get us kicked outta here, that’s why.”
Niko wiped his hand through the air. “No one find out. I reserve room.” He gestured for us to take off our swimsuits, too. “Hurry. We begin.”
Niko wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and the sooner we could get this over with, the better. I peeled off my swimming trunks.
“Derek, you too,” Niko said, motioning for him to hurry.
Reavo took his trunks off with a sigh. “There. Happy?” Climbing up the wooden benches, he made his way to the very top, sitting as high and as far away from the heat source as he could.
I sat on the middle bench, somewhere between Reavo and Niko. The wood was softer and gentler (andfarless splintery) on my bare bottom than I’d expected and feared.
“You know the big difference betweenbanyaand sauna?” Niko asked, dipping a large wooden ladle into a pail of water. “Banyamore steam. Much more steam.”
He carefully ladled the water over the neatly stacked lava stones on top of the wood stove. The water sizzled on the hot stones,PSSSSSSSSSSSS,and a scorching cloud of humidity filled the room. So much for Arizona—we’d just traveled straight to the hottest, muggiest day Florida had ever seen.
“Hoo boy. It begins,” Reavo whimpered.
“Yikes,” I agreed.
“Not sure how long I’m gonna last in here,” Reavo said.
I wasn’t sure I was cut out for this, either. The air was so thick and humid, it was hard to breathe. Sweat droplets were already forming on my skin, like condensation on an cold glass.
“Breathe through it. Shallow breaths,” Niko said, dipping his ladle back into the pail. “We just starting.”
He ladled more water onto the stones. The rocks gave up their heat with anotherpssssssssssss,not as angry as the first one, sounding instead like a round of polite applause.Again and again, Niko ladled water over the stones until the humidity level was sufficiently worthy of an authentic Russianbanya.
“There,” he said, sitting back to relax. “Now we can relax.”
Reavo choked on the thick air. “Relax?”
Niko reveled in glorious silence. Reavo fidgeted and breathed heavily. I just did my best to endure the suffocating heat for as long as I could. Time in the boiling inferno seemed not real; seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours. One thing was for certain, though: I couldfeelmy pores starting to open.
“You likebanya, don’t you, Big Rig?” Niko asked. “I can tell.”
I chuckled. “I’m hangin’ in there.”
Reavo laughed. “That meansno, Niko. Riggs is just too nice a guy to say it.”
Niko ignored him. “But you feel good, right, Big Rig?”
