again he’d made the right decision. He was better off without Levi.
He saw all of his usual clients that week. There was Bill, the accountant. Bill weighed nearly three hundred pounds, but complained constantly how his desk job was too hard on his knees. There was Molly, the over-worked mother of four. She never said a word. She lay on the table, blubbery and white, silent and limp. She reminded Jaime of a dead fish in more ways than one. There was Jen, the stripper, aka Sable. She had back trouble from dancing in five-inch heels. She talked incessantly of the clients who professed their undying love as they tucked their overdue child support payments into her sequined brassiere. There was Tammy, who had hairy legs and dirty feet. And Roger, who smelled like stale beer. There was Carol, the waitress, and Cal, the CEO.
He knew them all, and even liked a few of them, but he did their massages on autopilot. He stifled his yawns, telling himself he was just tired. But the truth was, he missed Levi. He hadn’t realized until he was gone how much he’d enjoyed doing Levi’s massages. Except for that one terrible day, Levi had always been nice. He was funny. He answered Jaime’s questions and laughed at his jokes. He was at times frustrating and infuriating and argumentative. He was bright and vibrant and fun. He was like a ray of sunshine in Jaime’s small, dimly lit massage room. The fact of the matter was, Jaime never found himself on autopilot with Levi. He liked that.
For three days, he debated whether he could count on Levi’s promise to behave. On Wednesday afternoon, as he locked the door behind Sheila, the pampered trophy wife of a rich octogenarian and who brought her dog in a purse to every massage, he made up his mind. And he called Levi.
“Hello?” Even over the phone, Levi’s voice had a sultry edge, making everything sound like a come-on. It unnerved Jaime a bit, but it was too late to turn back now.
“It’s Jaime Marshall.”
“Jaime,” Levi said. “Hey. Hi. Ummm…” He was stammering, obviously surprised, but he sounded pleased. “How’s it going?”
“Did you find another therapist?”
“No. Well, yes. Not really.” Of course, the answer made no sense, and Jaime waited for Levi to elaborate. “What I mean is, I looked in the phone book, but I haven’t called anyone yet.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. One’s too far away, the next one’s even farther, and the other has one of those stupid little Jesus-fish on her Yellow Pages ad, which kind of bugs me. I’m afraid she’ll get all ‘family values’ on me.”
Jaime couldn’t help but smile. “Those don’t seem like very good reasons.”
“They’re not,” Levi admitted.
“How’s your back?”
“It hurts. And so does my ass. And my thigh is fucking killing me.” He sighed. “I know I should call somebody else, Jaime, but I don’t want anybody else. I want you. ” He stopped short and then swore. “Shit! I didn’t mean that the way it probably sounded!”
Jaime smiled at Levi’s blunder. Levi had often teased him by calling him sadistic, and right then, Jaime felt it might be true because he was definitely finding some pleasure in Levi’s discomfort. For the moment at least, he believed Levi’s desire to return was based on his need for a massage and not on any ulterior sexual motive. “Do you still want to come back?”
“Yes!”
“Can I trust you?”
“Absolutely. I swear I’ll be good.”
Jaime was fairly sure by now he was going to agree, but it was nice to have Levi on the defensive. “I don’t know, Levi. Maybe you should call the lady with the fish in her ad.”
“Jaime, wait! Please, let me come back! I swear not to hit on you ever again.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“I’ll respect your boundaries.”
“That’d be nice.”
“I’ll do everything you say. Even the stretches!”
“That’d be a change.”
“I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“I suppose it’s a start.”
“I’ll let
He saw all of his usual clients that week. There was Bill, the accountant. Bill weighed nearly three hundred pounds, but complained constantly how his desk job was too hard on his knees. There was Molly, the over-worked mother of four. She never said a word. She lay on the table, blubbery and white, silent and limp. She reminded Jaime of a dead fish in more ways than one. There was Jen, the stripper, aka Sable. She had back trouble from dancing in five-inch heels. She talked incessantly of the clients who professed their undying love as they tucked their overdue child support payments into her sequined brassiere. There was Tammy, who had hairy legs and dirty feet. And Roger, who smelled like stale beer. There was Carol, the waitress, and Cal, the CEO.
He knew them all, and even liked a few of them, but he did their massages on autopilot. He stifled his yawns, telling himself he was just tired. But the truth was, he missed Levi. He hadn’t realized until he was gone how much he’d enjoyed doing Levi’s massages. Except for that one terrible day, Levi had always been nice. He was funny. He answered Jaime’s questions and laughed at his jokes. He was at times frustrating and infuriating and argumentative. He was bright and vibrant and fun. He was like a ray of sunshine in Jaime’s small, dimly lit massage room. The fact of the matter was, Jaime never found himself on autopilot with Levi. He liked that.
For three days, he debated whether he could count on Levi’s promise to behave. On Wednesday afternoon, as he locked the door behind Sheila, the pampered trophy wife of a rich octogenarian and who brought her dog in a purse to every massage, he made up his mind. And he called Levi.
“Hello?” Even over the phone, Levi’s voice had a sultry edge, making everything sound like a come-on. It unnerved Jaime a bit, but it was too late to turn back now.
“It’s Jaime Marshall.”
“Jaime,” Levi said. “Hey. Hi. Ummm…” He was stammering, obviously surprised, but he sounded pleased. “How’s it going?”
“Did you find another therapist?”
“No. Well, yes. Not really.” Of course, the answer made no sense, and Jaime waited for Levi to elaborate. “What I mean is, I looked in the phone book, but I haven’t called anyone yet.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. One’s too far away, the next one’s even farther, and the other has one of those stupid little Jesus-fish on her Yellow Pages ad, which kind of bugs me. I’m afraid she’ll get all ‘family values’ on me.”
Jaime couldn’t help but smile. “Those don’t seem like very good reasons.”
“They’re not,” Levi admitted.
“How’s your back?”
“It hurts. And so does my ass. And my thigh is fucking killing me.” He sighed. “I know I should call somebody else, Jaime, but I don’t want anybody else. I want you. ” He stopped short and then swore. “Shit! I didn’t mean that the way it probably sounded!”
Jaime smiled at Levi’s blunder. Levi had often teased him by calling him sadistic, and right then, Jaime felt it might be true because he was definitely finding some pleasure in Levi’s discomfort. For the moment at least, he believed Levi’s desire to return was based on his need for a massage and not on any ulterior sexual motive. “Do you still want to come back?”
“Yes!”
“Can I trust you?”
“Absolutely. I swear I’ll be good.”
Jaime was fairly sure by now he was going to agree, but it was nice to have Levi on the defensive. “I don’t know, Levi. Maybe you should call the lady with the fish in her ad.”
“Jaime, wait! Please, let me come back! I swear not to hit on you ever again.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“I’ll respect your boundaries.”
“That’d be nice.”
“I’ll do everything you say. Even the stretches!”
“That’d be a change.”
“I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“I suppose it’s a start.”
“I’ll let
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