The spark // Art Donaldson

009. Sauna

Cadell, 2019

Cadell's next match was just a day away, and with the quarter-finals on the horizon, she was feeling pretty confident after three hours of continuous training.

She sighed and wiped the sweat off her brow as she headed into the showers in the locker room. Tossing her tennis bag onto the bench, she scrubbed herself down in the showers, turning the temperature knob further and further left.

She felt the scorching water hit her yet felt nothing. Getting off the tennis court, once again, made her feel empty--and she forgot her pills in her room, making her forced to live in a world where happiness was a match in a pitch of darkness.

She dried herself with a towel, careful not to irritate the bruises blooming on her hips and thighs as she went. Alex had been more careful recently, only inflicting pain in places that couldn't be seen even if she wore shorts.

She changed into a clean set of clothes, jean shorts and a dark red halter top.

As she walked out, she hesitated outside the sauna, regretting changing into her outfit and debating whether or not she should change back into a towel and enter. Muffled voices drifted out from within the male sauna, piquing her curiosity. With a cautious step, she pushed open the door and was met with a surprising sight.

Cadell's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her. Art stood before her, his toned chest glistening with droplets of water from the sauna, his towel barely clinging to his hips. He exuded an aura of raw masculinity that made her heart race and her cheeks flush with heat. With each movement, his muscles rippled beneath his skin, drawing her gaze like a moth to a flame.

"Hey," Art greeted. Cadell swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from him. She cleared her throat, willing herself to regain her composure as she met his gaze.

"Hi," she replied, her voice coming out softer than she intended. The air between them crackled with tension, a palpable energy that seemed to envelop them both.

Art took a step closer, his eyes darkening with an intensity that sent shivers down Cadell's spine. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his tone laced with concern. He hadn't forgotten the way she had acted last time, or the bruises on her neck. His eyes scanned her form quickly, trying to find any hint of abuse. But he found none. Alex made sure of that.

Cadell hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She knew she should lie, should put on a brave face and pretend that everything was fine. But something about Art's presence made her want to bare her soul to him, to confess all her fears and insecurities. It had been like that years ago, and it seemed like he still made her feel the exact same.

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.

"No, not really."

Art's expression softened, his gaze searching hers with a depth that took her breath away.

"Does he treat you well?" he asked. The question was abrupt, and though he didn't mention Alex's name, they both knew what he was talking about. And they both knew the answer to his question. Cadell swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she should be afraid of the way Art was looking at her, how he had a family: a wife and a child.

But instead, she felt a strange sense of exhilaration, a thrill that pulsed through her veins like wildfire.

"He tries," she replied, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. Art's eyes flashed with something unreadable, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. The touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through Cadell's veins, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned into his touch.

And then, in a moment of reckless abandon, Cadell pressed her lips to his, her heart racing as she gave in to the overwhelming surge of desire that consumed her. It was a kiss born of desperation and longing, a silent plea for something more than the emptiness she felt inside. For a fleeting moment, time stood still as they lost themselves in each other, their bodies pressed together in a passionate embrace. It was a kiss filled with raw emotion and unspoken desire, a union of two souls bound together by fate. And as they finally pulled away, breathless and disoriented, Cadell knew that nothing would ever be the same again. For in that moment, she had found a connection with Art that transcended words and gestures, a bond that would forever bind them together in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Art's touch sent shivers down Cadell's spine as she leaned into it, her eyes locked with his in a silent exchange of longing and desire. She could feel the tension building between them, a magnetic pull that seemed to draw them closer with each passing second.

"Does he treat you better than I did?" He murmured huskily, his breath caressing her neck.

Cadell's heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath catching in her throat as she remembered the way he looked at her, back then, before she had left, the situationship they had been in before she cut them off. It was a decision she could never learn to not regret no matter how she tried. Sometimes she wondered what they could've been if she could've just handled her jealousy a little longer.

"He doesn't use me for sex." Was her simple reply. His gaze hardened, "you know that wasn't true."

She stayed silent, not looking him in the eyes and instead tracing the muscle on his chest.

"Why do you care?"

His eyes darkened, "how could I not care?"

Before she could respond, Art's lips crashed down on hers, his kiss possessive and urgent.

Oh shit.

Cadell melted into his embrace, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as she lost herself in the intoxicating rush of sensation. It was a moment of pure abandon, a fleeting escape from the reality of their lives.

"we shouldn't be doing this," she gasped.

"I don't care," he rasped, pulling her in once more. She didn't fight it.

But even as they kissed, Cadell couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that gnawed at her insides. Art had a wife and children, a family that relied on him. And yet, here he was, wrapped up in her arms as if she were the only thing that mattered.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and disoriented, Cadell found herself struggling to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that swept through her. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, knew it was wrong on so many levels.

And yet, she couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between them, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw them together despite the obstacles that lay in their path. For better or for worse, Cadell knew that she was in too deep to turn back now.

Art's eyes were unreadable as he studied her reaction.

Cadell was beyond terrified of what just happened–of what was to happen because of what she just did.

She might have gotten addicted to an old drug she could never have again.

It was the first time she felt something real outside of tennis in years. Such a simple kiss gave her so much more pleasure than Alex could ever provide. It was such a familiar feeling she had lost the moment she chose to run away.

It was her spark.