chapter 8: Tempting boundaries

Ryder's office smelled of warm sandalwood and lavender, a combination that should have been calming but only made me more aware of the tension coiling inside me. The assistant masseuses had already led Kaylor and Blair into separate rooms, leaving me alone with Ryder.

He was… striking. Blond hair, the greenest eyes I'd ever seen, and a tattoo covering his right arm that only added to his mysterious, almost dangerous aura. He had that effortless bad-boy charm, the kind that made women look twice. And yes, he was handsome. I'd give him that.

"So," he said, flashing a smile that revealed dimples. "Should we proceed to the massage room?"

I hesitated. My body ached, my mind was exhausted, and the idea of a massage was tempting, but more than anything, I just needed a moment. Someone to talk to who wasn't already tangled up in my drama.

"Can we sit for a bit?" I asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I just… need to talk to someone other than my friends."

Ryder tilted his head, considering me, before nodding. "Of course."

He extended his hand. "My name is Ryder. I'm a masseur, and I'm twenty-seven years old."

His introduction was so formal that I couldn't help but laugh.

Ryder chuckled too, shaking his head. "Too formal?"

"A little," I admitted, still smiling.

Something about him reminded me of Oliver back in college.

Oliver, who had been the most confident guy in his department, had seemed so shy when he first spoke to me. Even on our first date, he had fidgeted with his sleeve, his usual smooth demeanor cracking just slightly. It had been endearing, and I'd fallen for him then.

Even with everything happening now, I still loved him.

I loved him, even when it hurt.

"So," Ryder said, pulling me back to the present. "What's your name?"

"Tianah."

I tried to force another smile, but it barely reached my eyes.

Ryder studied me for a moment. I didn't like how he looked at me—like I was the most captivating thing he had ever seen. His gaze lingered, deep and unwavering, like he was seeing past everything I tried to hide.

This was the perfect time to tell him I had a fiancé.

But I didn't.

I needed a distraction.

I wasn't committing a crime by talking to him, was I?

"So, tell me," Ryder said, leaning back slightly. "What's on your mind?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Every thought I had vanished.

Then, before I could stop myself, I blurted, "Are you married?"

Heat crept up my cheeks. That was not what I had meant to ask.

Ryder laughed, his green eyes twinkling. "No, I'm not."

I bit my lip. "Sorry. That was a weird question."

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "But it's funny—you're acting all cute right now."

I felt my face burn even more.

I needed to get out of here.

"Um, where's the bathroom?" I asked, standing abruptly.

Ryder smirked, but he pointed toward the hallway. "First door on the left."

I all but rushed inside, locking the door behind me.

I turned to the mirror, staring at my reflection. My face was bright red, my pulse a little too fast.

What the hell was I doing?

I ran cold water over my wrists, trying to steady myself.

This was just a massage. Nothing more.

Let's just get this over with.

Taking a deep breath, I left the bathroom and found Ryder sitting behind his desk, legs crossed as he scrolled through something on his computer. His confidence was almost aggravating—like he knew exactly how attractive he was, and he knew how to use it.

"Can we start the massage now?" I asked, my voice more clipped than I intended.

He looked up, flashing another slow, knowing smile. "Of course."

He stood and walked toward a wardrobe in the corner, pulling out a fresh towel. Then, stepping closer, he placed it in my hand.

"You'll need to change out of that outfit," he said.

I stiffened slightly.

He pointed toward the wardrobe. "You can leave your clothes in here. And you'll have to take everything off—including your underwear."

My breath hitched.

He wasn't teasing.

He was looking directly at me, his expression neutral, professional. But something about the way his gaze held mine made my stomach flip.

I should have said something.

I should have told him no, or at least made some sarcastic comment to lighten the tension.

But instead, I nodded.

I nodded because I could barely speak.

I wasn't doing anything wrong.

I wasn't doing anything wrong.

I repeated it in my head like a chant as I walked back into the bathroom.

Slowly, I undressed, folding my clothes neatly before wrapping the towel securely around my body.

I wasn't doing anything wrong.

Still, my pulse refused to slow.

When I returned, Ryder was waiting.

He didn't say anything—just took my hand and led me into the massage room.

The lights were dim, the air thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla. A soft instrumental tune played in the background, barely loud enough to notice but soothing all the same.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust.

The massage bed was covered in crisp white sheets, the surface looking impossibly soft.

"Lay down," Ryder said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

I hesitated only for a second before following his instruction, lying flat against the mattress. The towel barely covered the necessary parts of my body, and I felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with nudity.

I should be thinking of Oliver.

But I wasn't.

Instead, I was acutely aware of Ryder standing beside me, his hands hovering just above my back.

"You're tense," he murmured.

Of course, I was.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

This was just a massage.

That's all it was.

Nothing more.

And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just crossed some invisible line. Maybe it's just in my head