I flash him a grin as he chuckles. “Just keep in mind, I’m a jealous husband,” he tells Meghan with a wink.
“I promise to bring her back in one piece,” Meghan calls. Then we duck into the massage room.
Unbeknownst to me, apparently Luke booked ahead for all four of us. At any rate, the spa attendants seem to recognize us at once and they lead us into a joint room, where they have us lie face down on tables and oil up our backs. It is quite possibly the best massage I’ve ever had—and a desperately needed one after last night’s marathon workout sex. Every muscle in my body feels sore, in ways I never knew were possible. So it feels fantastic to have them knead out the knots now, even if it keeps making me groan in pain.
“Worked out recently?” Meghan asks, with a knowing smirk.
“Something like that,” I admit, my cheeks flushed bright red as I think about how much noise we made last night. Not to mention what we did in the hot tub. I wonder if Meghan and Paul noticed us, from where they were on the dance floor.
“I’m sure.” She laughs. “So tell me, is Luke as great in bed as he looks like he’d be?”
My cheeks flush even worse than before. “Er, well… I mean…”
“Because damn, that man is attractive as hell,” she adds with an almost wistful sigh.
Something unpleasant curls in my stomach for a moment. He’s not mine, I tell myself. I can’t act jealous if I’m not even really his wife. Still. “That is why I married him, after all,” I say a little testily. Then I catch myself. “One of the reasons, I mean. Also for his brain. And his personality. And, well…”
Meghan laughs, sounding lighthearted. “Relax, Celia, I’m only teasing. Besides, I think you’re smoking hot too, y’know.” She reaches over to nudge my shoulder with one hand, and my face, if anything, blushes worse than ever.
“Thanks. You’re hot too,” I add, because it seems like the polite thing to say, and because, well, she is. She and Paul both are. “You guys make a gorgeous couple.”
“Thanks.” Meghan sighs happily. “Is it crazy that I’m actually looking forward to being married?”
I glance over and catch her studying her engagement ring with a contended smile. I find myself watching her more closely, feeling a fresh bloom of jealousy now for an entirely different reason. “Of course not. I think that makes perfect sense. You found the right guy to settle down with, and now you’re going to be with him for the rest of your lives. Why wouldn’t that be something to look forward to?”
“You just hear so many people talking about settling down as… well, settling. As putting on the old ball and chain and never having any more fun. I don’t think it’s going to be like that for us. Paul and I are still going to have fun, and neither of us are settling for each other.”
“Of course not,” I agree. “It’s not settling if you’re both head over heels in love.” I catch myself looking at my own ring too, turning it this way and that to enjoy the way the diamond catches the lights in here, reflecting them back in dozens of multicolored sparkles that dance along the walls. When the masseuse nudges me to turn over for the facial, I roll onto my back and rest both hands on my stomach, my right one over my left, toying with the ring absently as I think about how nice that must be. To feel certain about your partner. To know you are marrying for the right reasons, and the right person.
To know exactly how you both feel, and to be certain you are on the same page about it.
Yes, I am jealous of Meghan, but not because she thinks Luke is hot. It’s because she’s got a normal engagement, leading up to a real marriage, and me? I just have this weekend. I just have a couple days of playing pretend, and then it’ll be back to the real world.
“Hey.” Meghan’s hand brushes my shoulder again. “You okay?”
I glance over at her, and then do I realize that a tear escaped my eye and tracked its way down my cheek. I wipe it away, feeling more embarrassed than ever, my face white hot now. “Yeah, fine,” I mumble, my voice thick and unconvincing. “Just, um… something in my eye. Lotion or oil or something.”
Her hand drops away, and she lies back on her spa bed, closing her eyes. If she doesn’t believe me, at least she’s nice enough not to call me out on it.
I shut my eyes too, and try to relax back into the spa treatment, instead of letting my brain run in circles worrying what’s going to happen when this weekend ends.