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Authors: Kaitlyn Stone

Tags: #Romance

Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) (22 page)

BOOK: Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)
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He shoots me a devilish, self-confident grin, and sits up, forcing my back down to the bed. With his face hovering over mine, he reaches down and palms my cheek. “Ready for round two?” he asks seductively.

We both know that at this moment in time we have found that perfect connection together of mind, body, and soul, and that things have now changed between us forever. There is no going back. Donovan has declared himself fully to me, and I have accepted it, although I’m not ready to return the sentiment, yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give him that in return, but he seems okay with that for now, to take what I’m willing to give and no more, with no pressure. That alone makes me want to give him more and be more for him.

Covering his mouth over mine, his kiss stirs my blood with the same yearning, and we continue making love until we are both exhausted and I can no longer keep me eyes open.

 

* * * *

 

“Kenna?” Danielle’s voice sounds outside my door with a gentle knock. Barely able to move my body from the second and third workout with Donovan today, I manage to lift my heavy lids and peek at the clock. I groan at the time—four thirty.

“Yes,” I moan. I never thought making love would be so exhausting. I stretch my loose limbs in all directions, calling life back to my muscles. I feel like I’ve been drugged. I’m dozy and mellow.

Danielle cracks the door and pops her head in. “Why are you in bed?” She pushes the door all the way open and stands upright in my room. “Are you sick?”

“No, not sick.” I prop myself on my elbows to face her standing at the foot of my bed. It dawns on me that I never called her back earlier about the farmers’ market accident. “Sorry I never got back to you. I kinda got sidetracked.” I smile at the images in my mind from earlier this afternoon.

“No worries. I called Donovan when I couldn’t get a hold of you. He said you didn’t go today. How weird is that, though? Almost like divine intervention.”

“Yeah, weird,” I say, but then sit with that thought for a moment. I never had a chance to process it because Donovan showed up and “sidetracked” me, but if I hadn’t decided to switch my exercise class, I could have been one of the victims killed today. “I guess my number wasn’t up today.” My voice sounds low.

“So why are you in bed? You never nap. Miss Overachiever doesn’t do downtime,” Danielle says sarcastically.

I groan, flopping on my back and pulling the sheets over my head.

“You dirty little slut,” she says in a joking tone. I peel the sheets down below my eyes. Danielle is now standing by my end table, holding up a ripped condom wrapper. I throw them back over my head. “You’ve been doing the deed all afternoon. That’s why you’re so tired. Been getting the sausage beef injection…and in my parents’ house, none-the-less.”

“Oh my God, Danielle.” I say through the sheet.

“Sex saved your life.” She declares it like I need to give thanks to the Gods of sex for sparing my life today.

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did he crumble your cookie?” She adds.

“Enough. Get out!” I pull the pillow from under my head and fling it in her direction. I prop myself back up on my elbows. “I mean it Danielle.” I try to hold back a smile of pride.

She holds her palms in front of her body. “He did. What a stud. Go Donovan.”

“I mean it, Danielle. Out!” I reach over to fling my other pillow at her when she sidesteps out of my line of fire.

“Okay, but I’m proud to see you’re practicing safe sex.” I fling the pillow at her, but she slams the door in time and it falls to the floor.

Chapter 17

 

I shuffle to the kitchen to make myself a cup of green tea. The house is quite. Everyone must be gone already. It felt so good to sleep in today with no school, no work, but no Donovan, either. School is closed for one of the president’s birthdays and Donovan has training again this week.

“What am I going to do with myself all day?” I say, leaning against the sink, staring at the counter and waiting for my water to boil. I’m not used to having any downtime.

The sun is slicing through a break in the kitchen curtains, dancing a beam of light on the island counter. I never noticed the island has little specks of quartz in it. I’m so hurried in the morning, getting ready for school and work, I don’t stop to take in all the details around me. That’s it. I’m slowing things down today and
alive
life. My new use of the word “alive,” to live life in a way that you know you are fully alive and not just existing. I like it.

I
live
life every day. I’m a conscious, sentient person. I breathe. I walk. I do. I am an intellectual, emotional and aware individual, but am I alive? How do I know who I am and what I’m doing is right, if I don’t stop living and see if I’m alive? I need to step outside myself and my existence and remember what it’s like to be alive—to flourish, thrive, bloom, and succeed. What I am doing here? Is all this business making a point in my existence?

“Hey.” Danielle enters the kitchen, breaking my deep contemplation.

“Shit!” I grab my chest because my heart was about to jump out of it. “You scared me. I didn’t think anyone was here.”

Danielle laughs out loud. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. What were you doing,
fantasizing about Donovan
?” she teases. “Were you thinking about his big beefy arms all wrapped around you playing kissy face, huggy bear?”

“No,” I say and cross my arms. “For your information I wasn’t even thinking about Donovan.”

But her teasing makes me think she may be a little bit jealous. I haven’t been spending much time with Danielle since Donovan and I started seeing each other more seriously. I think she thought we would be doing more double dates with her and Tyler, but Donovan and I are enjoying our alone time.

“As a matter of fact,” I say. “I was thinking maybe we could do something together today. You know, girls-only day. We haven’t done that for a while.”

“Oh please,” she protests, while working around the kitchen, making herself some coffee. “You just admitted you didn’t think anyone was here. But I’ll let it pass because I don’t have any plans and a girls’ day sounds like a really good idea.” Danielle freezes in place with the coffee scoop in one hand and the filter in the other. She turns with a pleased look on her face. “You know what? I think I have a Groupon for a two-for-one at a Korean Spa. Let me see what the details are because that could make for a fun day.” She starts the coffeepot and walks out of the kitchen.

When she returns to the kitchen, she has her iPad in hand, I guess searching her e-mails for the Groupon.

“I don’t have a lot of money to spend on a spa day, Danielle. I’m poor, remember?” I remind her while pouring the hot water in my tea mug.

“No. No. It’s not like what you think. I mean you can pay extra for massages and facials and stuff, but what most people go for is the different steam rooms and saunas. It’s supposed to be very relaxing and
cleansing
,” she emphasizes with a fake British accent. She continues swiping her finger across the screen. “Here it is.” She reads the Groupon out loud. “It says, ‘
Two-for-one at Olympus Spa, Monday through Thursday—
fifteen dollars.’ We can afford that, right? Seven bucks each.”

That does sound fun and would fit into my plan to
alive
life more today.

“What the hell. Let’s do it. I haven’t done anything to pamper myself in a long time and we can catch up on each other’s love lives.”

“Great,” Danielle says excitedly. “I’ll call and make reservations.”

 

* * * *

 

After the
Spa Diva
finishes our tour, she deposits us at our lockers. At least that’s what I guess she’s called. It’s bedazzled on her shirt that way. This place is different. I’ve never been to a spa like this before. About half the patrons are older Asian women. The other half is a mixture of young, middle-age, and older women of all different races and ethnicities. But one thing that everyone has in common is they are all naked. Young, old, thin, heavy. Everyone is buck naked.

The spa has an old-world feel to it. Like we’re stepping back in time to the traditional public baths in Rome but with an Asian twist. Many of the steam rooms are therapeutic in nature and so are the whirlpools. The purpose of this spa is to cleanse, purge, and purify one’s body in a relaxing, peaceful environment.

They made us remove our shoes at the entrance, before we stepped a foot into the spa area, but they provide slippers if we need to use the toilet or walk to the reception area. We’ve been sternly instructed to shower before and after each steam room to wash off any sweat. They’re kind of clean freaks here, but I guess that’s a good thing when you’re sweating and soaking with strangers.

Danielle and I change out of our street clothes in silence and wrap the thin robes around ourselves.

Danielle turns and whispers to me. “What sauna room do you want to do first, the eucalyptus, the salt, or the charcoal?”

It’s quiet and we want to honor the silence. They also have
No Cell Phone
signs on the walls, further making it clear this is a place to escape from the modern entrapments of the outside world.

“Let’s do the wet steam room first with the eucalyptus and then the dry saunas after,” I whisper. “I think we’re supposed to plunge in the cold pool between saunas, but after we shower. I don’t know. This is a whole new social etiquette to me. I’ll just follow you. But I want to eat lunch at the café sometime around noon or one.”

“Okay. That sounds like a plan. I’m not too sure about the mugwort bath, though. That looks like a big hot tub filled with tea.”

I chuckle and close my locker. “I thought the same thing, but the sign says it’s good for circulation and female cleansing. I’m open to trying it all.”

We leave the locker area for our rinse-steam-rinse-plunge routine. There’s something refreshing about the processes. Each sauna has a personality all its own. The dry salt sauna is a hot room with pink Himalayan rock salt all over the floor. Danielle and I lay side by side on towels with little wooden blocks under our heads. The heat caresses my body in steady waves. This isn’t like the wet sauna, where I’m dripping a mixture of sweat and steam from my nose. In here, the dry heat and salt evaporates the dew from my skin. I’m so relaxed and dozy. I now understand why the sign warns patrons not to fall asleep, because it seems so easy to do.

It was a little awkward at first with everyone strutting around naked, and being one of them, but after the second sauna-shower- plunge I got the hang of it. There’s a subtle respect for each person’s space. No gawking or uncomfortable staring. Small quiet conversations are going on throughout the spa, like white noise in the background adding to the already meditative state in each room.

Danielle turns her head toward me. “Are you about done?” she whispers.

“Yeah, I’m ready if you are,” I whisper back.

Five minutes pass and we leave the dry-salt sauna for our last rinse and plunge before lunch. The café serves traditional Korean food. Next to the café is a darkened room with a warm stone floor where people lay on pads and cover themselves for a rest.

The café is busy with louder conversations flowing, and the aroma of garlic and unknown ingredients fill the air. I order the bibimbap cold bowl and Danielle orders the bibimbap hot stone. Her lunch is served in a hot stone bowl with sizzling rice and different cooked vegetables topped with a fried egg. Mine is the same but served over a cool bed of shredded lettuce and my rice is on the side. We are also given seaweed soup and a variety of pickled vegetables and kimchi. The presentation of our meal is much like the pageantry of the spa. Artistry and hundreds or even thousands of years of tradition are behind the making of this meal. I savor my new sweet, spicy meal with textures and flavors I’ve never experienced before. With each bite I take a sip of barley tea. I was hungrier and thirstier than I thought.

“So how have things been between you and Donovan since you two did the
big deed
last week?” Danielle says, chewing around a mouthful of bibimbap.

I choke on my barley tea and thrust my fist to my chest, coughing up the liquid from my windpipe. Danielle smirks. We’re close friends, probably the best, but I don’t want to get into the details of our bedroom activities with each other.

“Actually, things are going really well. We’ve been talking every day. I miss being with him.”

“So do you think you’re falling in love with him?”

“You know. I don’t know.” I pick at my kimchi. “I mean, I can tell you that I’ve never felt this way before about any guy, but I don’t know if this is love or not.” I shrug my shoulders.

“You want to know what I see?” Danielle asks.

“Um…okay,” I say.

She puts her chopsticks down and lays her hands flat on the table and speaks like someone from ancient times. “I see a young man who has fallen head over heels in love with a young woman. And I see a young woman who is starting to fall just as hard, if she lets herself go.”

I mimic Danielle’s posture and lay my chopsticks down, folding my hands in my lap. “Okay, old wise one. What do you mean by ‘lets herself go’?”

BOOK: Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)
10.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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