Heart Shaped Bruises

Chapter 2

Allie took a minute to soak in his presence while he was setting up.

His sharp jawline accentuated the nature-gifted features on his face. His jet-black hair seemed to be effortlessly irresistible. There were no obvious traces of too much gel usage, unlike most guys who wanted to impress. The soft, flowy black strands seemed to be screaming at Allie to touch them, and she had to admit, she wanted to. The muscles underneath his shirt flexed with each movement, clearly the result of years of going to the gym. The bottles of massage oil seemed to be ensnared under the gaze of his smoky blue-gray eyes. The intent and fastidious way in which he was carefully arranging the little bottles and towels that were on the tray made Allie ponder about how long he had been working there. Judging from his methodical manner, she would have guessed that he was experienced.

He looked up from the tray and shot her a smile that could kill. "I'm Hunter. I'll be the one taking care of you today. Your name?"

"Allie." She thought it was a nice touch that the workers made an effort to know her name on a personal level. It formed a shallow relationship between the customer and the masseur that made the session less awkward. But whether it was customary and part of their routine here or just something that Hunter picked up, Allie couldn't tell. After all, from the first glance, Allie could see that he was a womanizer, a player that collected girls' hearts ruthlessly. Exactly the type of guy that she hated the most.

Hunter nodded. "Please lie face down on the bed, Allie. I'll be lighting the candles now for the aromatherapy, and then proceeding with the oil massage."

Before complying, Allie quizzically glancing around until she spotted an assortment of candles sitting close to the bedside table. They must have been laid out and prepared beforehand. The light pink candle sticks and the arrangement of roses beautifully splayed on the table set the mood. Allie was yet again given another sense of how high quality this spa was. She made a mental note to never judge a place by its outer appearance.

Allie turned around, back facing the ceiling, when she felt a pair of hands at her shoulder blades. "I'm going to take off your robe now."

Thank god for words, or else Allie would have nearly had a heart attack at the feeling of the robe being guided down her shoulders.

"This is just standard procedure for this type of massage, no need to worry," he added, as if reading her mind. Hunter had dealt with all types of customers before, having worked at the spa for a solid four years. Most first timers panicked when it came to this step, but the fact was that you couldn't give a proper massage through the layer of cloth that covered the customers' bodies. Besides, it was strictly professional.

A few drops of cool liquid, which Allie presumed was the oil, made contact with her skin and she blinked hard when she registered the shock. As Allie began to relax, she felt the palms of his hands slide up and down the sides of her back. His touch was gentle, but held enough resistance to be perfect for a massage. Surprisingly, Hunter's hands did not match his sharp features. There was no roughness to his palms, only a tender softness that caressed her back. His hands made their way from pressing her shoulder blades to drumming the small of her back. His fingertips traced circles around her dimples of Venus, and Allie had a thought that this massage was almost... sensual. She was eventually lulled into a daydream with the scent of roses filling up her mind.

The next moment, she was transported to a field, blades of green grass crisp beneath her feet. Butterflies were fluttering around her hair, dancing their springtime lullaby. Allie giggled in her daydream, frolicking amongst nature. Although the conscious part of her knew this was a childish situation, this was exactly the kind of distraction that she needed from the truckloads of stress that students dumped on her everyday at work. Allie inhaled deeply, and once again, she could smell the roses. This time, she could see where the scent was coming from: a garden up ahead, framing the sides of a picturesque cottage.

Allie followed her nose until she was cupping the beautiful pink rose buds in her hands, and another smell subtly pervaded her senses. This one was not as pungent, yet also sweet. Honey? There was only one way to find out. The smell came from inside the cottage, and she cautiously pushed open the door.

No way. Inside was a small bakery, stocked with shelves full of different types of bread. Yet what was most shocking was the man standing behind the table in the middle of the room. Hunter, in all his glory, stood in an apron, his steel grey-blue eyes intent and focusing on the dough that he was kneading beneath his hands. Back and forth, back and forth. The smooth rolling motion reminded Allie of his hands on her back, kneading as if it were dough.

Allie's eyelids flew open and she let out a snort, laughing at the absurd comparison she had just made in her head.

She swore she could hear Hunter lift up his eyebrow. In an amused tone, he asked, "Something funny?"

"Not really." God, how embarrassing. At least she hadn't been snorting in front of Michael. That would have been the death of her.

Again being a mind reader, Hunter remarked, "So, got a thing for Michael, do you?"

Allie choked on air at the surprise attack. How did he seem to know everything? Surely she hadn't been that obvious. But then again, she did unknowingly read his nametag out loud earlier.

"No comment," she curtly replied.

Hunter chuckled, "So difficult." He leaned over and whispered right next to her ear in a dangerously playful voice, "I can tell you where he takes classes. If you do one thing for me."

Excitement rushed through Allie's veins at the sound of these words, and she completely ignored the last ominous sentence he said. Maybe Hunter wasn't so bad after all. Allie could learn to like him a little more.