Page 27 of Summer Affair

Everyone at the camp who knew him and Sophia worried for them both.

When he had finally arrived, he’d looked exhausted. His eyes were heavy with sleeplessness and worry. Then she’d seen the bruise on his jaw and her worry had doubled.

When she finally stepped into the therapy room to find him sitting on the table with a towel wrapped around his hips, her body started to vibrate with excitement.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, glancing towards her.

“You look like you could use some serious relaxation,” she replied, her voice soft.

He chuckled weakly. “You have no idea.” He rolled his shoulders.

She motioned for him to get settled as she dimmed the lights a little more.

As he settled onto the massage table, she draped the towel over his lower back then warmed the lotions and oils on her hands before touching him.

She started with long gentle strokes, allowing him to adjust to her touch. His muscles were tense, practically vibrating with stress.

“How’s Sophia?” she asked, keeping her tone gentle.

“Better,” he sighed. “She’s stable, but it was a rough night. I barely got any sleep sitting in that hospital chair.”

She nodded, her hands working methodically. “I can tell. Let’s see if we can work out some of this tension.”

She began to apply more pressure, her fingers digging into the knots that had formed in his shoulders and neck. Dean winced slightly but then let out a sigh as the pressure started to ease his discomfort.

“That feels amazing,” he murmured.

“Good,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

As she worked out the kinks in his shoulders, neck, and back, she couldn’t help but admire his physique. Dean’s body was lean and muscular, each muscle defined and strong. She appreciated the way his skin felt under her hands, warm and slightly rough from years of physical work. But it was more than just his body that she admired—it was his dedication to his sister, his strength in the face of adversity, and his unwavering kindness.

He was one of the biggest peacekeepers on campus. He seemed to always be the one to break up fights and convince everyone not to throw punches.

Her eyes moved to the bruise on his jaw. There was no doubt in her mind he’d done everything possible to stop Luke from throwing a punch. The man deserved to sit in a cell for it.

She moved down his back, using her palms to apply firm pressure along his spine. Dean’s breathing slowed, and she could feel him starting to fully relax. She focused on the knots in his lower back, using her thumbs to knead out the tension.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Itz perrffect,” he replied, his voice muffled and heavy with relaxation.

As she continued, her thoughts wandered. It scared her that she felt a deeper connection to him than anyone else she’d wanted to be with. The desire to be there for him in ways beyond just a friend or coworker was so strong it hurt when she thought about it.

Would being with him be a mistake? Would it ruin the friendship they had? Her mind swirled until she felt her own body tensing.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on helping him find some peace in the moment.

She worked her way down his legs, using long, sweeping motions to release the tension in his calves and thighs. Dean’s body was responding, each muscle gradually loosening under her skilled hands. She could feel the stress melting away, replaced by a calm that she hoped would give him some respite.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked, her hands moving back up to his shoulders.

“Like I might actually get some sleep tonight,” Dean said with a soft chuckle. “You’re a miracle worker.”

She smiled, her heart instantly warming at his words. “I’m glad I could help.”

When she finished the massage, she could tell he was sleeping. She draped a blanket softly over him, letting him rest for a moment while she cleaned up.

Then, before she left the room, she watched him breathe deeply, his body finally fully at ease. She felt a surge of emotions for him, a protective instinct that went beyond friendship. Love? She shook her head. She didn’t love. Hadn’t loved. Couldn’t love.