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She looked ashamed, shrugging her shoulders. “The door was ajar. It wasn’t that hard to hear. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but it couldn’t have been helped. For what it’s worth, I thought it was sweet, the things Mason was saying about you. It made me want to see you, this man who this little boy was going on and on about, like he was Superman or something.”
“And you did? See me, I mean.” I wasn’t sure why, but I had to know.
Stopping, she came to a halt more than a few yards from where the movie was setup. “In the midst of getting bumped into, yes, I made sure to turn and see you. I had to.”
“Man,” I ran my hand along my jawline, “it’s funny how things happen. So when we met, you knew about Mason?”
She nodded, kicking dry sand up with her toes. “From the beginning.”
“But you didn’t say anything?”
She shook her head. “You brought him up eventually, I figured you didn’t need to know. It was just a fling, remember?”
“I always thought it could’ve been more,” I said earnestly, hoping I wouldn’t scare her off, but also knowing I had to speak my truth.
“Do you ever believe two people are so meant to be that fate keeps throwing them together?” she asked suddenly. “Like no matter what they do, they’ll see each other again, run into each other again?” Then she shook her head and waved her hand in the air. “It’s silly, really. Don’t even listen to me. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
I took her hand in mine and kissed the top of it. “I don’t think it’s silly at all.” Then I chuckled. “Probably because I can see that’s exactly what’s happening with us. Maybe if someone else were to tell me, I’d think they were off their rocker, but there is definitely something going on here. Fate or whatever.”
“I believe in fate,” she confessed.
She believed in fate? Why did that not surprise me?
I smiled. “That’s all I need to know then.”
“For what?”
“To believe in it myself.”
Chapter Fourteen
Gemma
The idea of a stranger touching my skin made my own crawl. And this wasn’t just any stranger, and it certainly was nothing like when I fell into bed with a particular stranger three years ago. No, this stranger I was paying. For my spa treatment, of course.
As I sat at the spa with Soph and Coco, I was starting to think I detested the whole notion of visiting a spa.
I mean, what was that slimy stuff they plastered on your body?
And did anyone care to ask why they stuck your face in a hole with paper that got stuck to it when you got up, all so that they can massage you? My handheld back massager did the job just fine, thank you very much.
Yeah, detested sounded about right, but this was my sister’s party and I wasn’t going to ruin all the fun. Otherwise, I might be accused of being a party pooper again and I most definitely did not want that.
Eyes fully on me, Soph could read me like a book. I knew she knew this was not something I was enjoying. We all knew, for crying out loud. But I liked to think I did an admirable job of hiding it.
Yeah, right.
Finally, she threw her head back and groaned. “I warned you not to be a party pooper and you promised me you wouldn’t be one,” she whined, ever the baby sister.
I wagged my finger in the air to further drive home the point that I did not accept that. “I have done everything you wanted. I’m here. What more could you ask for?” I asked, but didn’t let her answer. “And you even said you were proud of me for getting out of my comfort zone with Lance and taking a surf lesson. Plus, look at all the stuff I’ve done here already with you girls.” Yeah, I was definitely working my way up to bailing on this next session.
Now she pointed at me and I felt my back go stiff even in the soft robe I had on as we waited to move from facials to the worst appointment of all, the dreaded session. “So why stop there?” she shrieked.
“Because I draw the line at mud baths,” I finally confessed. It was one of the last stops in our spa fest and I was praying that they changed their mind or, better, there was a fire drill and we had to run out of the place before we got there. But, I decided, if she was going to get on my case, then she might as well hear what was on my mind.
“What do you have against mud baths?” Coco asked, chewing her gum too loudly for my liking. The sound was making my stomach churn almost as much as the mere mention of a mud bath.
“Do you not even hear yourself?” I asked. I moved my hands about as I spoke to show them just how serious I was about this. “Over here,” I said, motioning my hand to the left, “we have mud. Literally the definition of dirt. Something that makes you want to take a shower.” Then I motioned my hand to the right, saying, “Over here we have baths. Something that makes you feel clean and often is filled with bubbles and deliciously scented soap.”
