Chapter Twenty-One #3
“We will leave the room. Please disrobe and cover your backside with the towels provided,” the first man instructs, who is beyond gorgeous.
He’s tall with dark jet-black hair, an eastern European tint to his skin, and one of those smiles you just know will get you in trouble.
He winks at me as he’s leaving. The other man follows closely behind.
This guy is just as attractive, but in a different way.
He’s broad shouldered, which makes his head look a little small, and he’s bald, but it’s that sexy bald where you fantasize about rubbing their head all the time.
He’s got a twirly mustache, one that’s perfectly twirled to make cute curls at the ends of his lips, and has these insane hazel-colored eyes that draw you in. Damn, where did they find these guys?
“Which one do you want?”
“I’m not the one getting married. I think you need to take the one you find least attractive. Either one will work for me because I’m still over here looking for Mr. Poppy.”
“I thought you already found that.”
The look she gives me could burn me alive. “I really hope you’re not referring to who I think you’re referring to.”
“Well, he did go to jail for you.”
She waves an angry finger in my face. “That wasn’t my fucking fault. He’s the one that got all alpha crazy and attacked him.”
“And you like that. Don’t deny it, because you read about alpha holes all the time.”
She sighs. “Shut the fuck up and take off your clothes. We got hot men waiting for us.”
The fact that she doesn’t correct me has me wondering if she’s starting to see Wesley in a different light? The man deserves a chance. A chance she hasn’t ever given him.
Both of us are giggling like crazy as we disrobe and lay across the table. Being fully naked with only a towel covering my private area is really unnerving.
Eddie’s gonna kill me for this one.
Both men re-enter, and the gorgeous one steps behind me. His hands are like magnificent pleasure distributers as he kneads his way down my back, working between my shoulder blades with such diligence, that I don’t even realize I’m moaning in ecstasy until it’s too late.
He grins wickedly when I glance back at him, winking sexily again. “Enjoy yourself,” he encourages.
So, I do. I can’t help myself. This shit feels too damn good.
He works his way to my lower back, pushing against my skin, rubbing out all the kinks and stress that’s been knotting up my spine.
“So, which one of you is getting married?” The bald one asks as he rubs Poppy’s feet.
“Her,” she replies. It’s quickly followed by a satisfied moan. “God that feels good.”
“I’m Marco,” Baldy says as his hands move up Poppy’s legs. “That’s my brother Renaldo.”
Even their names are hot.
Renaldo’s hands move to my sides, dangerously close to my breasts. I think he purposely hovers near them because occasionally I feel his fingers brush against the outside swell like he’s trying to cop a feel.
I fight the urge to tell him not to touch me that way, but it feels so good that I push it to the back of my mind letting his hands do their work.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Marco informs us.
Poppy seems remarkably relaxed; she’s moaning and groaning as his hands work their way down her body.
“It sounds like a porno in here,” I mumble through my table.
The sound of a curtain sliding between us interrupts my thoughts, just as Renaldo bends down, his breath tickling my ear. “Happy Ending?” he questions.
My eyes pop open so wide that I don’t believe what I’m even hearing. “Excuse me?”
“You paid for a full massage. Happy ending included. I must get your permission before going further.”
“Um, no thanks. I’m good.”
He frowns. “That’s disappointing. You’re beautiful.”
“Um, thanks, I guess.”
He reluctantly keeps his hands to himself, not exploring anywhere he shouldn’t.
“Mmm, oh god,” Poppy exclaims from the other side of the curtain.
“Poppy!” I screech.
“Shh,” she says happily. “Mind your business.”
It’s kind of hard to mind my business when the sound of skin hitting skin erupts on the other side of the room. Now it isn’t just her moaning, it’s him too.
“Are they?”
Renaldo laughs. “They are.”
“In here?”
“Mmm, hmm,” he says casually. “Could’ve been us, but alas, no happy endings for you.”
“I can’t believe this is even happening right now.” Covering my ears, I try to drown out Poppy’s excited moaning and Marco’s furious grunts as he finishes my friend off for what can only be described as the happiest of happy endings.
It lasts at least ten minutes before the sounds stop, and all I hear is the quick breaths of a very satisfied woman.
“Are you alive?” I ask her, just as the curtain whips open and she’s standing there, red-faced and glowing.
“Shut up.”
From behind her, I see Marco discard something rubbery into the trash, burying it beneath other things.
“Girl, you didn’t!”
She grins. “I so did.”
The two men, kiss our hands before leaving the room, but I notice that Poppy has a piece of paper in her hands. She opens it, blushes even deeper, then quickly tries to hide it.
“You little slut.”
“Hey now, don’t get jealous. I’m sure Renaldo offered you things too. I heard you say no.”
“And you didn’t,” I state, my mind reeling in utter disbelief.
“What can I say? Italian men love me.”
She happily gets off the table, practically skipping from the room. We meet Pippa and Mallory in the hallway. Both of them looking miserably disappointed.
“Ugh, I can’t believe I paid for that,” Pippa grumbles. “My masseuse was a tall German woman named Helga. She was rough as fuck.”
Mallory looks sheepishly away. “Mine was a girl too.”
“Yeah, but at least your girl was hot,” Pippa growls. “Mine looked like that principal off that Matilda movie. Ms. Trunchbull, I think her name was. You can bet your sweet ass I denied any kind of happy ending.”
Poppy and I share a look, her cheeks deepening a strong crimson color.
“Oh shit. Did you guys go through with your happy endings?” Her eyes focus on the two men leaving the room, and she gasps. “Oh, you so fucking did. They’re hot as hell.”
She turns back to look at me. “Damn, it’s your last day as a free woman and you didn’t even let the hottie cop a feel? I’m disappointed in you, Amber. I thought you’d let loose more.”
“I’m getting married in two weeks, Pippa. I’m not about to jeopardize it.”
She shakes her head, but then her focus moves to her sister, and she gasps. “You little whore! You fucking took the happy ending, didn’t you?”
Poppy shrugs. “Maybe I did… maybe I didn’t.”
“Oh, you did. Wait! You fucked him? Which one? Tell me,” Pippa screams, shaking her sister’s shoulders violently. I wanna live vicariously through you.”
“The bald one,” she replies quickly. “But shh, keep your voice down. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”
Pippa slaps her shoulder. “Holy shit. That’s amazing.” She then looks around. “Hey, wait. Where’d your mom go, Amber?”
My mother is weirdly absent. I haven’t seen her since we put on our robes and got out of the clay baths. As if on cue, Tula appears, handing me a note.
“Your mother wanted me to give you this.”
My friends all stare at me with pity.
Reluctantly, I open the piece of paper.
My Dearest Amber,
I’m sorry I didn’t stay for the rest of your bachelorette party, but I didn’t feel like I belonged.
In all honesty, I wasn’t sure what to say.
Our relationship has been so strained since your father died, and I know that’s mostly my fault.
I’m not okay, and spending time with you today only solidified that.
I’m going to be checking myself into a rehab center.
I’m not even sure if I’ll make your wedding, so I’m sorry for that too.
But it’s probably better if I don’t go. You deserve happiness—a happiness I can’t give you without your father here.
I saw the way you looked at me and heard what your friend said about me.
I’m thankful you stuck up for me when you did, but I shouldn’t have to rely on my daughter to fight my battles for me.
I hope everything goes well at your wedding. If I can make it, I’ll be there. But if not, I hope you don’t hate me forever. We both know I need this.
I need to get better for you, for myself, and everyone else that I’ve brought down over the years.
Hell, I couldn’t even hug you or tell you congratulations like I should have.
What kind of mother does that make me? A shitty one.
One that doesn’t deserve to even orbit your Earth.
Please give my regards to Eddie and his family.
We both know that Joe and Bunny have been far better parents to you than I ever was.
I’ve realized that without your father, I’m nothing, and that’s not okay. I need to figure out who I am without him. And right now, that means I need to be selfish, so selfish I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.
You’re my daughter, and I love you dearly, but this needs to happen. If I have any hope of becoming the mother you need, I have to fix myself first.
Please don’t hate me.
And if you do. I understand why.
Right now, I hate myself for doing this to you.
I love you, my little Ambee, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. Happiness you can only achieve without this me in it.
Love always,
Mom.
The paper feels like acid in my hands as I crumple it up, desperate to shred it into tiny little pieces. Instead, I stuff it into the pocket of my robe, fighting the tears that are already falling without warning.
“I fucking hate her,” I breathe out, on the verge of collapsing.
My friends surround me, all of them—even Pippa. They give me a strong group hug, one that can barely contain the sobs that are already shaking me apart inside.
“What she say?” Pippa asks, pulling away to look at me.
“She said she’s checking herself into a rehab center, and that she’s a shitty mom.
At least she got that part right.” Pulling away, I start walking toward the salon, doing my best to stay strong even though I’m unraveling like frayed yarn.
“Oh, and she’s not coming to my wedding,” I announce out of spite.
“So, thanks for inviting her, Pippa. That shit worked out great.”