by S. E. Rose
She nods and rubs her forehead. “It’s my own fault that I feel like shit. I felt the need to try to prove my drinking capabilities this afternoon, and that was a horrible idea. I know you think Grant must be a class A asshole, but I promise you, he’s a really good guy,” she says as she takes a sip of water.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod and take my drink. Harrison has joined Lee and his future wife, Maggie, who I really can’t stand. So, I walk down to the beach. I lean against the wall beneath the deck and gaze out at the ocean as I sip my martini. A moment later, I hear someone above me.
Reagan
I walk over to the deck’s railing and lean on it. I’m hoping the ocean breeze will help keep me from getting sick. The whole world has been spinning since I got here, and the water isn’t helping it. In fact, it’s sloshing around in my stomach in the most turbulent way right now.
Grant comes up beside me.
“You’re looking a little peaked,” he states.
I roll my eyes. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I whisper.
“Well, then go to the bathroom,” Grant hisses.
I nod and am about to make haste to the ladies’ room when all of a sudden bile rises in my throat. I lean over and as I get sick, I look down and realize I just vomited all over Zach’s shoulder. And I only narrowly missed hitting him square in the face because he hopped out of the way at the last second when he heard me wretch.
“Shit,” Grant says. I hear a hush in the chatter, and I suddenly feel very light-headed. And then I feel Grant catch me as I pass out.
It’s a cold cloth on my head that I feel first. Then I hear Grant.
“Hold on, she’s coming around,” he says.
I crack open my eyes and Grant’s face is right in mine, followed by Lee, Harrison, Grant’s mother, Diana, and…great, Zach.
“Hey, sugar. You OK?” Grant asks. “You gave me a scare.”
I want to roll my eyes, but the room is still spinning too much for that.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry,” I say. Grant puts a finger over my lips before I can say anything else. He leans down to my ear and whispers so only I can hear him. “Grandmother assumes you are pregnant. Don’t say anything, OK? I’ll figure something out after the wedding.”
My eyes suddenly bulge out of my head.
“She’s fine,” he says loudly. “I think the heat just got to her. I’ll take her back to our room,” he says, adding emphasis to “our.”
“Oh, dear. Please do take care of little Reagan,” Diana says, patting my hand. Diana is a bit of a Stepford wife, but she’s kind and means well.
“I will,” Grant says as he helps me to my feet.
He quickly ushers me out of the reception as everyone stares at us.
“Well,” he says as we walk back to the room in awkward silence. “That was…an interesting start to the week.”
I sigh and try to quell the sob that is about to make an unwanted appearance., but it’s too late. I’m too drunk to stop it.
Grant turns as the waterworks begin.
“Hey,” he says, stopping and taking me into a big bear hug. “It’s OK. Honestly, this is even better. Now, my grandmother will definitely think I’m straight if she believes you are knocked up.”
That only makes me cry harder. “Now, now, future wifey, don’t fret. We’ll work it all out before junior gets here,” he says, patting my back.
“Not funny,” I grumble.
“Come on, let’s get you back and pump you full of more…water,” he says laughing.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” I say to him.
“Oh, but, Reagan, my dear, I’m your asshole,” he says with a wink.
I groan, but once he opens our door and the air-conditioning hits me, I sigh with relief. I don’t even bother with modesty. I walk straight into our open bathroom and begin taking off my sundress, that quite frankly, I don’t even remember putting on earlier.
I hear Grant swear under his breath. “I’m gay, babe, not dead,” he says as he opens the slider door to the balcony. I roll my eyes and get into the shower. The water feels amazing. After a quick shower, and another bottled water, I’m starting to feel a little better.
“Here,” Grant says, handing me a Pedialyte. “Drink this.”
I do, knowing full well I need to rehydrate and replenish the nutrients in my body since I just puked them up all over Mr. Hottie. I try to remember his name but it’s escaping me. I groan just thinking about it.
“What’s wrong?” Grant asks.
“I puked on him,” I whisper in humiliation.
“Oh, what’s his name? He’s fine. Just needs his shirt cleaned,” Grant says while sipping vodka from a little airplane bottle.
“Really?” I ask.
“What?”
I point to the bottle.
He shrugs and takes another sip.
“Can I just die now?” I ask him as I snuggle under the covers.
He chuckles. “Not yet, we need to make it till the end of the week, but hey, on the bright side, you got us out of the awkward festivities tonight. Plus, your whole ‘preggers’ thing will really help us sneak out of stuff early all week long.
“Why don’t I move our spa appointment to tomorrow, and we can go on the snorkel trip the day after?” he suggests as he picks up the phone.
“Probably a wise decision,” I agree.
He makes the call and turns on a movie. That’s the last thing I remember before falling fast asleep.
Chapter 5
“How’s the stomach?” Grant asks over breakfast.
“Better,” I mumble as I sip a bit of the hair of the dog. “I think the heat and my meds combined with all the alcohol may have been a bit too much.”
“Probably shouldn’t drink in front of the others, since they think you’re—”
I hold up a hand. “We do not need them to assume I’m pregnant,” I hiss. “I draw the line at fake girlfriend.”
“Fine, I’ll tell them you ate something bad at the airport,” he says as he looks at his watch. “We better get going if we’re going to make it to the spa.”
I nod, and we walk quickly through the hotel lobby. I’m hoping we won’t find anyone we know. I need at least all day relaxing in the spa to regain my composure and some of my dignity.
We are separated when we get to the spa. Apparently, there’s a men’s side and a ladies’ side. I go to the women’s side and get in my robe and bathing suit, so I can relax in a hot tub prior to the spa treatment. Grant and I had booked a couples’ massage, so we could hang out, and frankly, it was way cheaper, even though money isn’t really an issue for us.
I walk into a giant room that smells good. To my left, there’s a sauna room, and in front of me, there are three hot tubs, well two hot tubs and one waterfall tub? I’m confused but no one explains anything, so I walk up and step into the hottest tub ever filled. Seriously, I now know how lobsters feel. I make it to my knees before I decide it’s not actually humane or possible for me to spend any more time in the tub. I then go to the middle tub which is like the polar opposite, and I mean polar. It’s so frigid that it shocks me after just being deep fried in the previous tub. I look at the last one. I pray that like Goldilocks, this tub will be perfect. I tentatively step into it and sigh with relief as I realize that this tub is indeed perfect. It is also crowded with three other women who all give me a knowing look. Meaning the bitches had already done what I had done yet failed to warn me of the temperature issues in the other tubs. Sighing, I close my eyes and lean back.
After a few minutes, a woman is standing by the tub with a towel. I dry off and follow her to another room. I look around. The room is filled with couples. She keeps walking past them and takes me down a hallway. She introduces herself as Maria and says to get undressed and put on this paper-like bikini and hat and then get on the bed. My partner is already on his bed. She opens the door, and I see Grant under the covers on the other bed with his hat on. He’s
covered all the way up to his neck and I can barely make him out in the dim light of the room. She ushers me into a shower. I change quickly and get into my bed.
Grant must be super relaxed because he hasn’t said a single word to me. I roll my eyes before closing them. Maria explains that we will get a mud wrap and facial first.
I relax as she rubs and slathers my body with warm mud and then wraps it up while she massages my face and applies some sort of mask. There’s apparently a simmering time because we are left alone, and I can hear Maria and whoever is working with Grant doing who knows what.
A few minutes later, Maria wakes me from my napping to say it’s time to shower. She leads me over to a shower on the far side of the room. It’s walled off from the rest of the room except for the translucent door. I get in and am about to start rinsing off and removing my bikini since she handed me a fresh one to put on when the door swings open and…holy shitballs!
“I…wait a…oh, God!” Zach says as he stares down at me.
Before either of us can say a word, towels are tossed over the door, and I hear the spa door click closed.
I look down to avert my eyes, but I am greeted with Zach’s package…which is quite impressive in the small paper diaper he is wearing. I turn away from him and cover myself with my hands.
“Explain yourself!” I cry out, trying to avoid his eyes, literally looking anywhere but his face…or his package.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Zach growls.
“I should be asking you that!” I nearly scream.
“I’m getting a spa treatment, Harrison was supposed to be here with me,” he says.
“Wait, you’re gay?” I ask.
“What?” he responds.
“Are you guys, like together?” I ask him.
“Hell no, we’re just friends,” he says.
“Oh…,” I reply. “Uh, can you turn around?”
He turns around and crosses his arms. His back is an impressive artwork of sculpted muscles that I wouldn’t mind exploring with my tongue. I groan. What am I thinking? I’m supposed to be with Grant.
“You OK back there?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say as I rinse off quickly and try to wash all the mud off my back. My cheeks flame when I realize that there is no way to get the mud off my back without assistance. Shit, that’s why they put us in here together.
“Uh…Zach?” I ask meekly.
“Yes…I’m…can you help me for a sec? I can’t get the mud off my back,” I relent.
He turns, and I turn quickly so I don’t have to look at him. I stand under the water and I feel his hand on my back. He gently wipes the mud away. His thumb rubbing small circles on my back that make me want to groan. I haven’t had a man touch me this intimately since…well, for a very long time. I quickly squash any thoughts of my ex-boyfriend, Bradley Ritter. He was a total prick.
“I’m sorry,” I say to him as he continues to remove the mud from my upper back and neck. His fingers are like magic as they massage away the dirt.
“For what?” he asks, clearly confused.
“Where to begin…well, for flashing you at the beach yesterday and falling into you in the hallway in a drunken mess, oh and puking on you at the party, and now apparently crashing your spa treatment. Although, I really want to know where Grant is because he was supposed to be here. I thought you were him,” I explain.
I hear a light chuckle from behind me. “You’re forgiven. Although I don’t think I can salvage that shirt.”
I sigh. “I’ll pay to replace—”
A strong hand on my shoulder stops me from speaking. “No, that’s not what I meant. I was just teasing you. How are you feeling, better?” he asks, his voice now concerned.
I know I’ve turned bright red again.
“Yes. I drank too much yesterday,” I admit.
“I know. Although Lee’s family seems to think you are…well, expecting?” Zach says.
I sigh again. “I’m not.”
“I figured. I think you’re clean. I’ll turn around, so you can change,” he says.
I quickly change into my new paper bikini. “Do you want me to…,” I ask as I wrap the towel around me and point toward his back.
“It’s OK. I’ll manage,” he says, and I nod and step out of the shower.
Maria is back in the room and looks at me curiously. I go and lie back down on the bed. I hear Zach get out of the shower and climb into his bed.
I try to relax as Maria begins to massage me, but this whole thing is awkward, like really, really awkward.
“Relax, Mrs. Adams,” Maria says.
Wait, what? Oh, God, she thinks I’m Zach’s wife. I hear Zach chuckle next to me. Fucker is lucky he’s five feet away, and I can’t kick him right now.
I spend the rest of my massage attempting to relax. I think by the end, Maria gives up hope that I’m capable of relaxing. The masseuses leave the room, and I poke my head up to look at Zach.
“How was your massage, Mrs. Adams?” he asks with a smirk.
“Fuck off,” I mutter. “Do you mind?” I motion for him to turn around, and he does.
I pull on my robe and quickly run out of the room and straight into Harrison and Grant.
“Whoa, little lady,” Harrison says as he grabs my arm to stop me from falling. I hear the door open behind me as Zach comes out of the room. All four of us look at each other and after a moment we burst into hysterical laughter.
“Oh my God! I thought Grant was you, Zach!” Harrison laughs, wiping a tear from his eye. “I wondered why you didn’t say anything.”
“I thought Zach was you,” I explain to Grant.
Our masseuses come down the hall with water and look at us like we’re crazy. We all take sips as we follow them.
“Well, thanks for the…interesting experience,” Zach says as we part ways at the open room to go to the proper ladies’ and men’s sides of the spa.
“Thanks for…getting the mud off my back,” I say to him looking down at my feet.
I glance a look up at him, and he gives me a warm smile.
“You’re welcome,” he replies and quickly exits the room.
Zach
“So, you and Reagan, huh?” Harrison says with a laugh as we head back to our suite, which awkwardly has one bed. Of course, Harrison wasn’t able to charm his way into another suite because everything is booked.
“That was utterly awkward,” I mutter as I flop on a chair.
“Grant is fucking hot,” Harrison states.
I roll my eyes. “Great, he’s also here with Reagan.”
Harrison shrugs. I groan. “No, no way. We are not wrecking a relationship while we are here this week,” I say to him.
“I’m not saying that, asshat,” Harrison snarls at me. “We should hang out with them. Grant is fun. He took the whole ‘we got thrown in a shower mostly naked’ thing really well. And holy hell is he ripped. I wasn’t the least bit upset when he asked me to help get some mud off his back. We need fun people to hang out with instead of all the stiffs from Lee’s family and especially the ones from Maggie’s family.”
Harrison has a point there. The four of us are probably the most normal of everyone here.
“Fine, we’ll have to track them down and see if they want to hang out later or something. Don’t we have a rehearsal dinner tomorrow or the next night?”
“Next night, tonight is the formal sit-down welcome dinner, and tomorrow is the snorkel trip,” he says.
“What the fuck was last night?”
“A cocktail reception,” he states matter-of-factly.
I shake my head. “Rich people,” I mutter under my breath as I head to the bathroom to rinse off the spa oils.
Afterward, I wander down to the small beachside bar and spot Grant sitting at a chair that overlooks the water. I take a seat next to him.
“Hey,” he says to me.
“Hey,” I say. A waiter comes over and takes my order. I glance back at Grant.
“Where’s Reagan?” I ask.
“She’s coming. She wanted to shower first,” he says.
“We should all hang out tonight after the dinner. Harrison said there’s a fun nightclub in the hotel,” I offer.
“Sure. That’d be fun,” Grant says. “So, you went to school with Lee?”
“Yeah, we pledged together,” I explain.
“Right, he’s mentioned you guys a few times,” Grant says. “We don’t get together often.”
We’re silent for a minute until Grant speaks again. “Thanks for helping with Reagan yesterday.”
“She shouldn’t drink so much,” I say curtly.
Grant sighs. “I know. It’s my own damned fault. I should have been paying more attention to how much she drank when we were at the beach, but there was that whole boob incident, and she got all pissed off, and I lost track of her drinks. Then she seemed so uptight, and I just wanted her to loosen up and have fun…well, not that much fun, but you know what I mean,” he says.
“I’m just glad she’s alright,” I say to him.
He nods. “Me too,” he admits.
“So, how long have you two been together?” I ask him.
“On and off since college,” he says.
“Oh,” I reply.
“You got a girlfriend?” Grant asks.
“No, not recently,” I tell him.
“How about Harrison?” he asks.
I laugh. “Harrison hasn’t been exclusive in a long time,” I say, not sure if I should tell him that boyfriends are more of Harrison’s thing.
“Well, Reagan and I were going to grab drinks before heading over to the reception, if you want to join us,” he says.
“Sure,” I answer as I see Reagan walking up. I stop breathing for a moment. She looks stunning. This is the first time that I’ve seen her clothed, sober, and put together. She really is a beautiful woman. Her reddish-brown hair is in soft waves around her face, her blue eyes seem to sparkle in the light, and she has on the most adorable hat I’ve ever seen. She looks down at her phone as she walks, not paying an ounce of attention to her surroundings. As though I sense the impending catastrophe, I rise to my feet and walk toward her just as she stumbles…right into my arms.