Falling Star

Chapter 2

'I'm telling you, man, I don't know how you do it.' Gareth's best friend shook his head, Ed's sandy hair falling in his eyes. 'If I had naked women on a table in front of me all day every day, I'd be walking around with a permanent hard-on.'

Ed thrust his forearm out in a crude imitation of his imaginary erect penis, then he laughed, his voice echoing over the deserted beach as he said, 'Like this, dude. For real. You must have the bluest balls this side of the North Pole. That's pretty much a whole hemisphere's worth of balls, and yours are the bluest.'

Gareth half-smiled. This wasn't the first time they'd had this discussion, but he enjoyed the company as he packed up from his last client's beachside massage. 'It's not the same as having a naked woman in bed, Ed. I'm a therapist, a healer. I don't see my client's bodies as sexual objects.' He dusted the sand from his folding massage table and started walking back up the beach.

Ed followed, not letting the topic go. 'That's bull. Even healers get hard-ons. You're telling me, you look at a sweet, apple-shaped ass and you don't want to grab that thing in two hands and take a bite?'

'No.' He genuinely didn't. When Gareth saw his clients, he didn't see skin or curves. It was almost as though he saw through the surface to the issues lying hidden below. Knotted muscles, twisted pelvises, compressed spines—these were the things he saw, and those ailments definitely weren't sexy. 'Besides, not all my clients are naked women. Here comes my latest client now.'

The two men looked along the path to where a happy fat man in a striped towel waved to them. 'Hey, Gareth! You've got some magic hands there, my friend,' said the man, who owned one of the largest phone companies in the world. He shook Gareth's hand enthusiastically. 'Thanks for that—I feel like a million bucks.'

Even though the very hairy tech wizard was worth at least three thousand times that amount, Gareth smiled at the compliment. 'Thank you, sir. It was my pleasure.'

'Until next time, then.' The man handed Gareth a wad of bills and wandered off towards his bungalow, humming and happy.

'Ew,' whispered Ed when the client was out of earshot. 'At least he's a good tipper. How did you massage through all of that hair, anyway?'

Gareth ignored him and counted his tip. The gratuity was never expected but always welcome. Every dollar counted; every dollar was a step closer to his dream, and getting him off this island. Tucking the money into his pocket, he checked the time. 'I need to get back to the spa.'

'Course you do,' said Ed. 'You'll need to burn that table, I assume. I've gotta get back to the beach; my next booking is a Brazilian supermodel. She wants to go windsurfing, and let me tell you, bro—I definitely view her as a sexual object. Later!'

Gareth waved him off. Ed was perfect for his job as Extreme Activities Coordinator; the female guests loved his flirtatious, wild ways, while Ed inspired healthy competition in male guests. Ed was a legend around the island, for both his job proficiency and rumored sexual prowess.

Gareth preferred to fly under the radar. When he did his job right, he left people feeling so amazing they couldn't remember their own names, let alone his. And he'd been single since arriving on the island, so his sexual prowess wasn't even well-practiced, let alone the stuff of legend. It didn't matter; there was more to life than booty calls and random hook-ups anyway.

Hefting his heavy table, he strode along the palm-covered path to the day spa building. Waterfalls trickled over rock features framing the front door, and he crossed the indoor bridge over the koi pond, greeting the day spa manager. 'Hey, Carol. I'm just going to clean up my gear and then I'm off for the afternoon.'