“Ana?”
My eyes shoot open, the soft lighting of the massage parlor’s ceiling slowly coming into focus. There’s a carpet-like texture against my skin . . . wait, yep, I’m on the floor.
What the hell?
What the hell?“Are you okay?” Almost in slow motion, Georgia slides into my vision. She’s at my side, one hand on my shoulder and the other digging in her pocket.
“What happened?” I ask, my brow furrowed as I try to figure out what the hell happened. An older woman is half lying, half leaning over the massage table, staring at me with wide eyes, and my hands are slick with oil. Oh s**t.
Oh shit.“You collapsed during a session,” Georgia mutters, worry coloring her features. “Damn, I must have left my phone at the desk. I’ll get it. How are you feeling? Should I call an ambulance? Yep, I sho
