Alpha Santa

Massage Mayhem

Piper’s

As I walk down the quiet hotel hallway, an uneasy feeling continues to gnaw at me. I’d spent time searching for Zoe throughout the hotel, but she was nowhere to be found. Worse, I realized I didn’t have her number to text or forward her the evidence. Anxiety prickled at me as I debated whether to ask the hotel staff for her details. For some reason, my worry for her was growing by the minute.

Just as I’m about to turn back, a muffled sound stops me in my tracks.

Rounding the corner, I freeze. Zoe is on the floor, curled into herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her shoulders tremble, and the soft sound of her crying breaks the silence.

“Zoe?” I rush to her, my heart lurching. She looks up at me, and her tear-streaked face punches me right in the gut.

I don’t ask any questions—I don’t need to. The raw pain in her eyes is too familiar. A part of me feels relief that I hadn’t been so foolish as to send her that stupid video, which would have only added to her pain. Without hesitation, I kneel beside her, gently placing a hand on her arm. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

She doesn’t resist when I help her up, her body trembling against mine as I guide her down the hall. We reach my room, and I unlock the door quickly, easing her inside. She collapses onto the edge of the bed, her head bowed, her hands clutching her chest like she’s trying to hold herself together.

I grab a bottle of water and press it into her hands. “Drink this,” I say softly, crouching in front of her. She obeys, her fingers trembling as she takes a sip.

After a moment, she whispers, “I saw him.”

Her voice cracks, and my heart sinks. “Zack?”

She nods, fresh tears spilling over. “He was with someone else. Again.” Her voice is barely audible, each word a struggle. “I thought…I thought maybe this time he’d change.”

I sit beside her, my chest tightening with a mixture of anger and empathy. “How long have you been out there, Zoe?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, wiping at her face with trembling hands. “Long enough to feel like an idiot.”

I reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not an i***t. You’re just...you’re in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

She looks at me, her lip trembling. “I’ve been with him for ten years, Piper. Ten f*****g years. We met when we were kids. I thought we’d be together forever.”

I nod, letting her speak, because I know she needs to let it out.

“But every time he drinks…” Her voice breaks. “Every single time, he cheats. And then he blames it on the alcohol, like that makes it okay. Like that makes it not hurt.”

I take a deep breath, fighting the surge of anger building inside me—not at Zoe, but at Zack. “You know what my therapist told me?”

Zoe blinks, her brows furrowing slightly. “Your therapist?”

“Yeah,” I admit, offering a small smile. “After my ex cheated on me, I needed someone to remind me how to breathe again.”

Her expression softens, a mix of curiosity and something like hope.

“My therapist said, ‘You’re holding onto someone who told you cheating is normal. Someone who thought so little of you that he didn’t just betray you—he made excuses for it. Is that really the kind of love you deserve?’”

Zoe stares at me, her tears slowing as my words sink in.

I continue, my voice firm but gentle. “And then she told me, ‘The first step to healing is choosing yourself. Block him. Delete the pictures. And remind yourself that his opinion of you doesn’t define your worth.’”

Zoe’s lips part, her eyes wide with surprise. “You actually went to therapy?”

“Yup,” I say with a shrug. “And it’s the best thing I ever did for myself. Because you know what? I realised I deserve better. And so do you.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her fingers fiddling with the water bottle. “But it’s hard…letting go of someone you’ve loved for so long.”

I nod, my chest aching for her. “I know it is. But Zoe, you’re too beautiful, too kind, and too damn smart to waste your tears on someone who doesn’t see your worth.” I give her a small smile. “Don’t spend your best years on a bastard who doesn’t deserve you,” I whisper, regret pressing on my chest. I wish I’d learned that lesson sooner about Adam, but as they say, better late than never.

She looks at me, her lips twitching into the faintest smile. “You sound like my mom.”

“Well, your mom’s a smart woman.”

Zoe chuckles, a small, tired laugh that makes me smile. “So…what? You think I should find someone better here? Maybe someone like your handsome mystery man?”

Her teasing tone makes me laugh, and I roll my eyes. “He’s not my anything. And besides, this is about you, not me.”

She smirks but doesn’t press. She yawns, her exhaustion catching up with her.

I stand and pull a blanket off the bed, draping it over her shoulders. “Get some sleep, Zoe. You’ve had a rough night.”

“What about you?” she asks, her voice heavy with fatigue.

“I’ll take the couch,” I say, waving her off. “Don’t even think about arguing.”

She doesn’t. Instead, she leans back against the pillows, her eyes closing as she mumbles, “Thanks, Piper.”

I smile softly, watching as she drifts off. The pain of letting go is something I understand too well, but tonight, I’m glad I could help her take the first step.

---

The first rays of sunlight stream through the curtains, pulling me from a restless sleep. My back aches from the couch, but I wave the thought away as I glance at Zoe, still curled up in my bed. Her face is peaceful now, a stark contrast to the tear-streaked despair of last night. I yawn, stretch, and tiptoe toward the bathroom to freshen up.

When I come back, Zoe is sitting up, her eyes flicking from the bed to me with a guilty expression.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, biting her lip. “I took your bed, and you—”

“Don’t,” I interrupt with a wave of my hand. “You needed it more than I did. Besides, the couch and I have a complicated relationship—it loves to hurt my back, and I love to complain about it.”

She lets out a soft laugh, but guilt lingers in her eyes. “At least let me do something to make up for it. How about a spa day? My treat. I won’t take no for an answer.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “If it makes you feel better, sure. But only because you insisted.”

“And…” I pause, looking around the spacious room. “You’re welcome to stay here until the trip’s over. This room’s big enough for both of us, and you shouldn’t have to go back to your old one if it means running into that jerk.”

Her lips tremble as she looks down at her hands. “I was thinking of going back home,” she admits softly.

“Why?” I ask, frowning. “Why do you have to leave? Why should you give up on this trip? Let him leave. He’s the one who screwed up.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and before I know it, she’s on her feet, wrapping me in a tight hug. “I’ve never had someone defend me like this,” she whispers.

I hug her back, a warm smile spreading across my face. “You can count on me, friend.”

---

The spa lobby smells of lavender and eucalyptus, the air warm and inviting. A cheerful staff member greets us and walks us through their private rooms. She explains the process, showing me to a room.

“Here’s your robe,” she says, placing it on a cushioned chair. “Just take off your clothes, put this on, and your masseuse will be here shortly.”

I nod, thanking her, and as the door clicks shut behind her, I do as instructed. The robe is soft and plush against my skin, and I climb onto the massage table, draping the towel over my lower back.

The room is silent except for the faint sound of soft flute music. I close my eyes, trying to relax, when I hear footsteps outside. The door opens, and I assume it’s the masseuse.

But then there’s a low, guttural growl. My eyes snap open, my heart pounding. What the hell?

“Uh… ma’am?” I call out nervously. “You might want to call animal control. I think there’s a wild animal loose. The growling is… uh… unsettling.”

No response.

Suddenly, strong hands grip my shoulders, and I gasp softly as an electric jolt shoots down my spine. The touch is firm yet impossibly gentle, pressing into the tight knots that have been plaguing me for days. The pressure is just right—enough to make me wince but not enough to pull away.

Against my will, my body relaxes under the touch but something feels off. My breathing hitches, my eyes widening.

No. It can’t be.

I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to convince myself it’s all in my head. But then the hands glide lower, and the tension in my body melts away. Skilled fingers work slow circles into my lower back, and my body arches involuntarily into the touch.

I bite my lip, my face heating as a soft moan escapes. The sensation is intoxicating, the sparks spreading through me overwhelming and unexpected. My skin feels hypersensitive, every stroke sending shivers down my spine.

The hands move lower, grazing over the towel before pressing into my thighs, my breath hitches.

God, this feels…

I clench my fists against the table, biting my lip to stifle another moan as the touch borders on intimate.

Those hands—the sparks, the way my skin reacts like it’s been set on fire. There’s only one person who could make me feel this way. No way.

"Careful," a rough, familiar voice warns near my ear. "If you keep moaning like that, Piper, I might just take you right here."

My blood runs both cold and hot at once. My eyes snap open, and I grab my robe, clutching it tightly to my chest as I spin around.

“Elijah?!”

How did he get in?