The Towel Incident
All night I tossed and turned, thinking of the most believable excuse I could come up with to skip this ridiculous spa trip.
However, I knew my mother very well. She, in turn, knew me just as well, perhaps even better than I’d like to admit.
So, the solution to my problem was to actually go and prove her wrong, to show there was absolutely nothing going on between me and Miles.
I sighed. God…of all people… Suddenly, I was very much looking forward to meeting that guy Jo told me about. Blake, or whatever his name was.
When I got outside, Miles was already there, standing next to his car, smoking.
“Where is everyone else?” I asked.
“Good morning to you too!” He forced his stupid, perfect smile at me.
“Is it though?” I raised my eyebrow, my voice lacking enthusiasm.
“Your mother said she and Jo will meet us there. Some arrangements…she had to run first.”
“So, it is just…?”
“You and me, yeah.”
“Fucking great,” I muttered with a sigh.
“Well, it wasn’t my idea to brag about my facial skin routine.”
“You should have just said no.”
“Like that was an option?”
“Well, for you, yes!” I darted my gaze at him. “Great,” I muttered, “now she is playing this stupid matchmaking with the person I cannot even stand for a beat of a second.”
“Wow, a beat of a second, huh?”
“Even that is too much, trust me.”
Quite apathetically, Miles turned his face and headed to take the driver’s seat. “You coming or what?” he called out.
As long as no words were exchanged between us, I thought, I could survive this day. Lounging in the front seat, a sardonic laugh escaped me. Why hadn’t I taken the back? But it was too late now.
The drive stretched on in a tense silence. The only music to my ears—and I really meant it—was the familiar sound of Nothing but Thieves coming through the speakers. It was a small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless, that we both seemed to enjoy the same band.
***
While Jo and my evil mother hadn’t arrived yet, a lovely receptionist named Camille offered us a refreshing glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Let me show you the facilities,” she said with a warm smile, her voice soothing and drawn-out.
I could swear I was already relaxed only from hearing her speak.
Could I go home now? “I would suggest starting with a sauna,” she said, giving me an extra dose of calm.
“Shall we?” She gestured to follow her down the hall.
“Yes, we shall.” I smiled, thinking that if I ever had insomnia, Camille, with her idyllic meditation vocals, could easily put me to sleep.
Hair up, wrapped in a towel, warm droplets glistening, running down my skin.
Sipping on a cold glass of water, I headed down the room that smelt of a mix of chlorine and spicy cedarwood.
When I entered the sauna, Miles was already there, sitting on the top bench.
Glancing at me, he only leaned back slightly and shifted his gaze upwards.
It seemed there was a nonverbal understanding established between us. Good .
Placing my other towel on the lower seat as far away as possible, I stretched out on the opposite side of the sauna. Since closing my eyes seemed like the best strategy to avoid seeing him, I did just that.
Slowly, I felt the warmth envelop me and the tension in my muscles started to ease. Each inhale and exhale was deep and calming. And even with the most obnoxious person next to me, my body and my mind could finally relax. A soothing crackle from the burning wood was my perfect peace and quiet.
Nearly eighteen minutes in, I couldn’t help but notice Miles’ shallow, rapid breaths.
“You good?” I whispered.
A hoarse “yes” escaped him, yanking my gaze towards him. Miles was climbing down the bench, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, leaving him looking slightly pale.
“Are you feeling okay?” I blurted out with the tiniest concern in my question.
“Be right back,” he muttered, his voice thick with heat. “Gotta hit the shower.”
“Sure,” I mumbled right before he vanished behind the glass door, leaving me alone in the stifling silence of the room. Two more minutes, I thought, my gaze fixed on the hourglass timer ticking away on the wall.
When I left the sauna, the drumming of running water echoed across the room.
Hmm, was he okay? I wondered, ignoring the simmering resentment that bubbled within me, or maybe that was simply my professional instincts kicking in.
With a tighter grip on my towel, I made my way to the cool spray.
Perhaps…checking on him wouldn’t hurt either.
What happened next? Let’s just say it was a story best left buried.
Because, apparently, I possessed an exceptional gift—or call it a sixth sense—for when exactly Miles would swing the shower door wide open.
Absolutely naked, might I add. Now, I wasn’t looking, not at all!
But I did. And with panic in my eyes, I spun around like a gyroscope, completely forgetting the puddle lurking near my feet.
Next thing I knew, an opera yelp ripped from my throat as I went down, falling…
right…into his arms. The second next thing I wanted to know was the whereabouts of my towel.
So, there we were, complete strangers, completely naked, sprawled out on the cold shower floor.
“Oh my God!” I gasped, terrified of yet another very real deja vu. My hands flew up, scrambling for cover. “Get your hands off me!” I yelped. “You pervert!”
“A pervert?!” he exclaimed, offended. “You were the one sneaking around! If anyone is a pervert, it is you!”
“Ah?!” My face flushed with embarrassment.
I quickly reached for the towel, wrapping it so tightly around myself that I could barely breathe.
Do not look down. Do not look down. I stood in front of him, my eyes remaining fixed on his.
“Do you mind?” I muttered, gesturing for him to move aside, desperate to hide myself in the changing room.
“Don’t worry, Florence.” He raised his eyebrow at me, a faint smirk grazing his lips. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Ugh!” I fumed, quickly pushing past him.
Not sure what my mother had in mind, but I assumed that a naked shower rendezvous wasn’t even close.
***
Conveniently, the only one making an excuse as to why she had to skip the spa, dragging Jo along at the last minute, was my mother.
“Something came up,” she said. “I am so sorry, Florence,” her voice crackled through the speaker, right before the line went dead.
“Great,” I muttered, throwing my phone into my purse.
“She was never going to show up here, was she?” Miles glanced at me, fastening the seat belt across his chest.
“Bingo!” I sighed, slipping the buckle into place.
Miles started the engine. It roared to life then settled into a smooth, controlled purr that filled the car. “Home?”
“Please.” I forced a smile. “And about earlier…”
“What about it?” he asked, narrowing his gaze on the road stretching ahead of us.
“Can we just erase everything that happened in the shower? Well, preferably both times.”
“I don’t know, Florence, that might be a little too hard to forget,” he said, the corners of his mouth slightly tugging upward, “but I will try my best.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I too pressed my lips together, holding back a smile.
“So much for checking if you were alright,” I muttered.
“Careful there, otherwise I might think you actually were worried about me.”
“Look, I didn’t exactly take the fancy doctor oath, but when I see a man—” I glanced at Miles. “—nearly fainting from overheating, I do follow the code of ethics.”
“Nearly fainting?” he repeated with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Oh, come on, Miles, you are not seriously going to deny it.”
“Well, um,” he mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, God!” I let out a burst of laughter.
“What?” A playful glint in his eyes met mine.
“Just admit it!” I teased.
“Hmm, let me jog my memory a little.” He smirked at me. “I might find another interesting thing happening there. Twice.”
“Ugh!” I sighed, dramatically furrowing my brow. “Fine, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Good. Otherwise—” Reaching for the empty pack of cigarettes, he let out a small groan then added with a grin—the one that made my eyes roll but I secretly thought was absolutely charming. “—I’ll deny everything.”
“Of course,” I laughed, my gaze lingering on him for a bit, then slowly landing at the same empty pack, black bold letters warning that smoking, in fact, kills. “And…what do you have to say about smoking?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you like about it?”
“Who said I do?”
“Um…the fact that you smoke.”
“Well, it…it just reminds me of someone.” Oh?
Someone? Care to elaborate? “It became the one thing that feels familiar.” Glancing at me, he quickly drummed his fingers against the wheel and added with a smile that meant this topic was over.
“Anyway, now, it’s just a bad habit I hope to get rid of one day. ”
*
Just as I dared to believe we might call it a truce, a sports car screeched in front of us, igniting a spark of temptation in his eyes. The knot of apprehension in my stomach tightened. This was it. The challenge was accepted.
“Are you up for it, baby?” he muttered under his breath, a sly grin playing across his lips as he momentarily pushed the car harder. There was no question, this was a race. Gripping the seat belt so tight my nails dug into my skin, I cried, “Miles, please, no!”
“Don’t worry, Florence,” he said, his voice laced with thrill and excitement, “I know what I’m doing.” The engine roared like a beast as he slammed on the gas, lurching us forward. “We’ll just have a little fun!”
Miles’ knuckles shone white as they gripped the steering wheel, his jaw set in a determined line.
In the rearview mirror, the silver sports car we’d just passed was veering behind, swallowed by a haze of burnt rubber.
Miles chuckled as the engine screamed violently to its limit, the speedometer needle climbing higher with each tick of the clock.
Panic choked a scream back down my throat, stealing my ability to speak, my hands and ears going numb as the world blurred into a terrifying memory ready to consume me.
Terror coiled in my gut with the sound of the screeching tires as we approached a sudden, sharp turn.
A turn that plunged me into my nightmares. To that fateful night…
Breathe. Breathe. Please. Just breathe. An empty, lifeless stare pierced through me.
Please. Just breathe. My fingers trembled, reaching for the hand.
Please. Don’t leave me. A small breath, barely there.
“Stop the car! Stop the car!” I managed a sound, repeating, my voice ragged with fear. “Stop it! Stop the car! Please!”
“Florence?” Miles finally glanced at me, his eyes widening in shock. “What’s going on?”
“Just stop the car!” I begged. “Stop it! Please!”
“Shit!” he muttered. “Fuck!” Slamming on the brakes, he quickly pulled the car over. “Florence? What is it?”
As soon as we came to a halt, I immediately jumped out of my seat. A wave of tears streamed down my face. My feet carried me forward, as fast as possible, far away from him.
“Florence? Wait! Where are you going? Florence?” He caught up with me, grasping for my hand.
“Don’t!” I choked out. “Please, don’t touch me!”
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He kept his grip tighter.
“Please, just let me be, Miles!”
“Look, I’m sorry. Just get in the car, I promise I won’t speed.”
“It’s fine, I can walk.”
“Right, like I’m going to leave you here all by yourself.”
“Jesus, Miles.” I yanked my hand away. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”
***
Heart hammering in my chest, I rushed through the garden. Hoping to slip inside unnoticed, I tiptoed past the fragrant blooms of mum’s hybrid tea roses only to be stopped by the sound of voices. Jo and Miles.
“It was her best friend.”
“Shit, I didn’t know,” Miles said. “Did she die in the accident?”
“Yes…she did. This is one of the reasons why she chose to do what she does,” Jo said, her voice catching slightly.
“She refused to believe that nothing could have been done to save her, if only she had at least known what to do. The whole thing was, well, traumatising, and she hasn’t sat behind the wheel since. ”
“How does she work in the ambulance then? God, it must be tough and…triggering to be in that environment?”
“Yeah…every single time,” Jo breathed. “But they probably don’t race like lunatics, do they? I bet you tried to show off a little.”
“I might have pulled a few stunts. Fuck! I’m so sorry, Jo.”
“Well, you didn’t know. It’s just…” Jo exhaled a sigh with a little edge to it. “I think she believes she owes it to her.” Ugh, I do owe it to her. “And I think it’s stupid. I can’t explain that…I…”
“I get it,” Miles said, his voice calm, with familiar sadness to it, as if he truly did. His next words made me look at him differently, perhaps more aware of the reason for his reluctance. “I’m aware of grief, Josephine. I know loss very well…”
“Yeah,” Jo breathed heavily.
Damn it , some part of me wished I wasn’t so harsh to him.
It made me curious about him, urging me to get to know this person who, it seemed, needed space first to get closer.
What pain had he experienced? Is that why he is the way he is?
And had that ‘someone’ anything to do with it?
Then I shook off those intrusive thoughts.
I was still very, very, very mad at him. Well, perhaps one “very” was enough.