“I’ll come back in a couple of minutes, give you some time to undress,” I said, but he pulled his shirt off as I made to leave, so I didn’t get a chance. I exhaled a small harrumph to express my displeasure, then turned around to face the wall. I could sense the tight movements of his shoulder muscles as he lifted his shirt over his head.

“I could have gone out.”

“I only need to take my shoes and shirt off,” he told me.

He was still a client, regardless of whatever this was.

I stared at my dark purple wall and tried to imagine it navy. I was still undecided on what color to paint it, but yesterday Mali had finally approved changing the wall color—for my room only—so that was a win for this crazy week. The clean, masculine aroma of the candle was working its way through the room, and I felt my breathing slow. I stared into the flame until I heard the table creak and the soft pull of the sheet. I counted to ten once he stopped moving.

“Same pressure as before?” I asked. He was lying there on the table faceup, his stomach exposed. The thin blanket and sheet were pulled up only to his hips.

He nodded. Great. Back to this. His eyes were open, following me around the room.

“Usually I start with the back, which means that the client lies on his stomach,” I told him.

“The client,” he said. “Right. That’s me.” Kael turned over and rested his head in the face cradle. I grabbed a hot towel from the warming cabinet and tried to think about him simply as my first appointment of the day—but who was I kidding, he was more than that. Was he playing some kind of game with me, being present one moment, gone the next? It sure felt like he was. Yet another reason I stay away from dating, and men in general. I couldn’t keep up with the games, I wasn’t good at them.

I placed a hot towel on his back. The moist heat would help relax his muscles and make the treatment more effective. I took another hot towel and wiped his arms and feet. In silence, I focused on his soft skin, taking in his scent: cedar and campfire, I think. And definitely bar soap. Kael was not the body-wash type.

I started to pump peppermint oil into my open palm but stopped when I remembered he had refused it in prior sessions—that curt no being one of the first of his monosyllables. I rubbed my hands together to warm them, although I would have loved to surprise him with icy fingers on his warm skin. A little bit of payback for the merry-go-round he had me on.