Lingering Touches

The weekend came like a blessing and a curse. No work, no plans, just the apartment and Mia.

I was in the living room reading when she came back from her morning yoga session, glowing with sweat, wearing only a tiny sports bra and the shortest yoga shorts I’d ever seen. Her skin was dewy, abs slightly visible, and her ponytail swayed as she stretched her arms above her head.

“Chloe, my shoulders are killing me,” Mia groaned, rolling her neck.

“That new flow class was brutal. Can you please be an angel and give me one of your famous massages?”

My mouth went dry. “Uh… sure. Sit...