-
For the rest of the afternoon after Alex and I part ways, I’m floating. Out of body, but it’s a warm fuzzy feeling, not disconnected. I think of Alex. Feel him near me. Smell his cologne and his musk filling me. Surrounding me. And all I can think about is how much I want to be with him again.
At the hot tub, whenever that will be. I’ve already decided which swimsuit I’ll wear. A silver two-piece bikini, with a ruffled skirt. It’ll not only give him a good look at everything in the hot water, but it’ll also give him easy, unfettered access. Without ever really having to undress me.
I’m occupied by these thoughts until Mariah and I meet up just outside the lodge. I’ve just left the boutique after losing myself in fantasies and clothing I don’t buy.
I can tell just by looking, she and Paul got up to more than skiing on the mountain. Just like I got up to more than trying on clothes in the dressing room. But the thing that makes me happier than knowing she got another good lay is what she says to me about going to the hot tub. That Paul invited her there, and she’s definitely planning to meet up with him.
Without giving away how happy this makes me, I say that I’m down for a soak and would even be willing to give her one of my swimsuits to borrow.
Which ends up being a good thing, because when we arrive back at the room and start to get changed, it turns out Mariah doesn’t have a swimsuit packed.
I give her the silver two-piece bikini I was planning to wear and change into my matching black one. Which is fine by me anyway, since the black bikini is designed to push up my boobs more. Give me more cleavage. Something Mariah probably wouldn’t be comfortable with anyway.
“Ready Freddie?” I say, enjoying the look Mariah has on her face in reaction to my Grand-Canyon cleavage. She nods, and we head out the door together. But not before grabbing some towels and flip-flops provided by the lodge.
As we head to the hot tub, I let my head fill with more thoughts of Alex. Of what it will be like when I see him again. Maybe you and your brother are there together, I think, becoming excited just by the smell of warm water and chlorine. At least until Mariah and I arrive.
Images of me straddling Alex underneath the bubbly water with my bikini bottoms pulled aside fills my head. Then maybe we can each go our own separate ways. At least two different ends of the tub.
***
Unfortunately for me and Mariah, neither of us get what we are expecting once we enter the spa area. Paul’s there, but Alex isn’t.
Even worse than that though, is the fact that there is someone there with Paul. It’s not his brother or friend. It’s another woman, and Mariah sees them cuddled up together. The skinny blonde is hugging on him so close, she might as well be rubbing herself off on his junk. Or on his abs by the way she’s straddling him.
But Paul doesn’t look happy to have her there. If anything, he looks stressed. Harassed sexually, as if this woman is his anorexic nightmare.
Mariah doesn’t seem to pick up on this detail, though. She stops short, her breath stopping even shorter in her lungs. She let out a strangled sob as she stares at them together the way someone would stare at a fiery ball of carnage. Unwillingly transfixed.
In the same moment, I see Paul’s face contort in absolute horror. “Mariah,” he cries, leaping out of the tub. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s just ejected the real-life Barbie doll directly into the water from his lap. “Wait! It isn’t what it looks like!”
Before I can do anything to calm Mariah down, or scan the area one more time for Alex, Mariah bolts from the room. She drags me along with her before I have any say in the matter. Before I even realize I gave her my hand to hold.
“Come on! I’m done!” she cries, pushing out of the doors that separate the spa area from the rest of the lodge. She’s sobbing now, but we continue to move quickly, blindly down the hall. “I want to go home,” she says plaintively.
Worse than her tears, is the fact that I now here Paul running after us. Calling out to her, telling Mariah to wait and to please listen to him. Of course, she wants nothing to do with him.
“I’m going home,” she screams at Paul more than at me. “I’m done with all of this.” Her voice has gone from a raging fire to a burned-out husk.
We walk faster, and as I feel Mariah’s legs start to give out, I feel my heart give out. I start to give into the sadness and frustration I feel. It takes everything I have not to cry along with her. But even if I do, it isn’t because of witnessing potential cheating on behalf of my friend. It’s because I’m so damn torn between wanting to be on Mariah’s side and going back to look for Alex. Spend the time with him that I promised.
Mariah reaches our room and tugs me inside before I can make up my own mind. Shutting the door, she collapses in sorrow.
“I can’t believe he would do that,” she wails, “I can’t believe that liar and fraud would invite me to the hot tub over and over again, only to have another bitch in there with him.”
I watch her struggle to get up, to change out of the swimwear into regular clothes. “I thought he had more respect for me than that. But I guess $1 million is cheap to him.”
From over Mariah’s wailing, I hear a knock on my door. I know it’s Paul, and while I know Mariah’s not going to want to talk to him, I don’t feel the same. I saw something she didn’t. That Paul wasn’t as enamored with his unexpected company as her sensitive heart wants her to believe.
I shrug her off when she tries to keep me from speaking to Paul. I step confidently to the door and slip out of it into the hall, not caring how much skin I’m showing Alex’s brother.
Paul looks as distraught as he sounded when he ran after us. He’s just as desperate. More so now, now that I’ve stepped out to speak with him.
“Please,” he begs, “you’ve gotta let me talk to Mariah.”
I don’t respond to him, but he acts like I did.
“Just for two seconds.” Behind us, Mariah is crying. Sniffling. “Two seconds, that’s all I ask,” he adds, practically looking like he’s about to get down on his knees and plead. “Just let me explain to her that it wasn’t what it looked like!” Paul’s eyes look like a caged animal afraid of fire. “I swear to God, I would never do that to her!”
I close the door a bit more, looking at him with genuine sadness. “I know you wouldn’t.” Tears fill my eyes and threaten to fall. Not for Paul, but because I definitely won’t get to see Alex now. “I saw how you really were with her, whomever that woman is. You’re not into her. Clearly.” I dab the corner of my eyes, daring my tears to defy my perfectly-manicured nails. “But Mariah’s not going to listen to you.” Under my breath, I add, “I wish she would. Then I could be with Alex one more time.”
“There’s gotta be something I can do,” Paul says, switching out of beggar mode to boss mode. “I can’t just let this stand.”
“Take out your phone,” I tell him, “and write this down.”
Paul does what I ask, amazingly producing his phone from what I thought was a pair of purely water-soaked swim trunks.
When I sense he is ready to take down what I have to tell him, I say, “this is Mariah’s address.” I repeat it to him from memory. I’ve never seen a guy’s fingers move so fast as they do on his smart phone’s screen. “And this is mine,” I say. I repeat that one for him because it’s obvious he’s not all that present. His mind is on Mariah.
“Uh-huh,” he says, finishing typing out what I’ve told him. “Got it.”
“That there, what I just had you type?” I say, pretty sure he didn’t get it at all, “that’s for Alex.”
Paul looks at me, but again it really doesn’t click. “Sure. Got it.”
I sigh, making a move to go back into the room. “That’s the only way you’re going to have any chance of saving this with her,” I murmur. And you are my only chance at getting to see Alex again, I think, watching Paul turn and zombie his way down the hall. So, please don’t fuck this up. Nervous, cold sweat starts on my hands. If you do, I might never get to see Alex again!
With that damning thought, I step back into Mariah’s war zone. The minute she sees me, she’s barking orders. “We’re leaving. Now,” she says. “I’m not hanging around here another minute.” She swallows thickly. “I’m not letting my heart get fucked with anymore.”
“Honey,” I say, having to work overtime to hide my exasperation and heartache, “don’t you think you should give him a chance to explain?” I try to grab on to her hand. “It might not be what it looks like, you know.”
“Even if there were some kind of explanation, I don’t want to hear it,” she seethes, gritting her teeth over each word. She storms away from me, angrily shoving clothes on her body. “It’s clear what I’m worth to him.”
I don’t hear anything from her after that. Which is fine. It keeps me from having to think too hard about everything I had planned to do with Alex on my final night here. How I’d hoped he’d seduce me into a final round of sex with him before we said our goodbyes.
But now all I have to look forward to is packing my bags. Which I do in cheated, lonely silence. More than once, I want to throw my clothes down, and force her to listen. To let me convince her to stay, but I don’t bother. I know she’s too stubborn to listen.
And I’m too depressed to waste the effort.
After our bags are packed, it’s a quick and painless checkout process.
Something I thought I would never hate so much.