Chapter 22 #2
I haven’t done naked spas with other people before.
My anxiety about my body, about being vulnerable, about everything, starts creeping back in like a cold tide.
But I wrap the huge, fluffy towel from the lady around myself, tucking it securely above my breasts, and slip my feet into the surprisingly comfortable slippers available in the changing room.
When I emerge from the stall, Nina is already out, appearing relaxed and happy in her own towel. Her hair is piled in a bun on top of her head.
“Lockers are over here,” she says, leading me to a row of small wooden compartments with combination locks. “Put everything in and take the key bracelet. That way you don’t have to worry about anything.”
As we secure our belongings, Nina starts talking about Oliver, the guy she went home with from The Timber Den the other night.
“He’s already out of town,” she adds with a sigh, snapping her locker shut.
“Had to leave yesterday morning for some work thing in Seattle. But he texted me before his flight. Said he’d keep in touch once he’s settled. ”
“Do you think he actually will?” I ask, slipping the key bracelet onto my wrist.
Nina shrugs, aiming for casual, but she doesn’t quite pull it off. “Part of me thinks he probably won’t. You know how it goes. Guys say they’ll call, they mean it in the moment, and then real life happens and they forget.”
“Did you really like him, though?”
“Kinda did.” Her voice softens, honesty slipping through.
“He was hot, obviously. Like, stupid hot. But we also talked for hours before we even kissed. About real things. His family, my bakery dreams, what we wanted from life. It didn’t feel like just another hookup.
” She grins suddenly, mischief flashing back into place.
“And then the sex was incredible. Like, mind-blowing. He fucks like a god, Anita. Seriously. I may never recover. I’m ruined for other men. ”
She sighs dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like a fainting Victorian lady. “It’s my luck, you know? I always get this little taste of euphoria, this glimpse of what could be amazing, but then it never stays. It’s like the universe loves teasing me.”
“Fingers crossed he calls back,” I say, squeezing her hand. “Because you deserve all the happiness, Nina. You really do. You’re the best person I know.”
“As do you,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine. “And speaking of which, you can’t hide from those guys forever. They won’t judge you as harshly as you’re judging yourself.”
“I know,” I admit, my chest tightening. “But I worry they won’t ever see me as anything more than the girl who lied to them. I’m scared of how much I want them and that if I let myself hope again, I’ll just get crushed even worse than with my last pack.”
Nina studies me, her expression steady and certain. “Your last pack was full of assholes who didn’t deserve you. These guys are different. You know they are.”
“Maybe,” I say quietly. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll still want me after this.”
“We’ll see,” Nina says, her tone carrying a quiet confidence that makes something fragile stir in my chest. Then she hooks her arm through mine. “Now come on. Let’s go experience luxury.”
She pushes open another door, and we step through into the actual spa suite.
My mouth drops open.
It’s like we’ve stepped into some kind of magical stone-and-wooden cabin hidden deep in an enchanted forest. The room is enormous, stretching outward in multiple directions with different designated areas for different experiences.
In the center is a large square hot tub, easily big enough for six or eight people.
The interior is lined with smooth stones as seating, and the water is a gorgeous blue-green color, rippling and steaming invitingly.
But what makes it truly spectacular is the enormous window behind it, floor-to-ceiling glass that overlooks a cliff’s edge.
The view is absolutely breathtaking. Mountains in the distance, their peaks brilliant white with snow.
Trees coating the slopes, their branches heavy with fresh powder.
And it’s snowing outside right now, big fat flakes falling past the window in that mesmerizing way that makes you want to just stand and stare.
In one corner is a stone fireplace with flames crackling and popping, throwing off waves of delicious heat and that incredible woodsmoke smell that reminds me of camping and comfort.
Against one wall is a walk-in shower area, all natural stone with two large rainfall showerheads mounted overhead. There are built-in stone benches inside, a whole wall of neatly stacked, fluffy white towels, and the space is so large that ten people could easily fit inside without feeling cramped.
And then there’s the sauna. A walk-in wooden structure with the doors currently standing open, revealing long wooden benches on two levels like stadium seating.
The heated stones are already glowing orange, ready to create steam.
A wooden bucket with a ladle sits beside them, and there are small steps to climb up to the higher bench level.
Near the hot tub is a smaller circular tub, and when I look closer, I realize the water has ice in it.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “And this is all ours?”
“You bet,” Nina says proudly, clearly pleased with my reaction.
The attendant who led us in appears through another door, carrying a tray with water bottles. She sets them down on a small table near the hot tub and launches into her explanation.
“The hot tub and sauna are already at optimal temperature. The ice bath over there,” she gestures to the circular tub, “is for alternating hot and cold therapy after the sauna, if you’re interested in that experience. Many guests find it invigorating, though it’s certainly not required.”
She points to a button mounted on the wall near the hot tub.
“If you need anything at all during your session, just press this buzzer. Food from our menu, drinks, additional towels, massage therapists if you decide you’d like that service added.
Whatever you need. Otherwise, you have complete privacy for the next four hours.
The suite is soundproofed and entirely yours. ”
“Thank you,” Nina says.
The woman nods and heads for the exit. “Enjoy your time.”
She leaves, and the heavy door closes with a soft, final-sounding thunk.
I turn to Nina, and tears prick my eyes. Grateful tears, overwhelmed tears. “I’m completely gobsmacked. This is amazing. And you’re doing this for me? You have no idea how much this means, especially with everything that’s going on. I don’t deserve a friend like you.”
“You desperately need this kind of relaxation. I just want you to know that I booked this and did it specifically for you with the best intentions. Okay?”
I look at her, thinking that’s a slightly odd way to phrase it. But I’m too grateful and emotionally wrung out to question it. “Okay. Thank you. Seriously.”
“Sauna first?” Nina suggests, already moving toward the wooden structure. “Get a good sweat going, then we can hit the hot tub.”
“God, yes. I need to sweat out all my anxiety.”
We hurry into the sauna, the heat hitting us immediately. It’s intense but not unbearable. Nina immediately grabs the wooden ladle and adds more water to the stones. Steam hisses up dramatically, filling the wooden space.
We sit on the lower-level bench, the towels wrapped around us protecting our skin from the hot wood. Within seconds, sweat is starting to bead on my forehead, my upper lip, the back of my neck.
“So, really,” Nina says, settling in and leaning back against the wooden wall with a contented sigh.
“How are you actually feeling? And I want the truth, not the brave face you’ve been putting on.
That was incredibly painful, what you went through yesterday, and you said you’re certain they’re your scent matches, all four of them. That makes everything so much worse.”
“So much more than worse,” I admit, feeling the words stick in my throat.
“It burns, Nina, as if someone’s pressing hot coals against my sternum.
It all happened so ridiculously fast, you know?
I didn’t realize I was falling for them until I was already drowning, already in over my head.
Every moment I spent with them outside of work was my undoing, and I should have come clean before things got physical, before I got in so deep I couldn’t see straight. ”
I wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. “But I can’t change the past, can’t undo what I did.”
“Okay, but listen,” Nina says, turning on the bench to face me more fully.
“Sometimes things seem bigger and more catastrophic than they actually are when we’re in the thick of them, you know?
Our emotions and feelings get all bruised and dramatic, and we blow things out of proportion.
But those guys aren’t going to just let their scent match walk out of their lives.
They’re not stupid, and they’re not heartless. ”
She leans forward earnestly, her eyes intense.
“Do you know the actual statistics? I saw this national government study last month when I was researching Omega rights stuff. Less than ten percent of people find their true scent match in their lifetime. Ten percent, Anita. Most people go their whole lives never experiencing that kind of connection, that recognition. So, just saying, maybe you should talk to them soon. Be normal. Try to start fresh, like you’re meeting for the first time in a way. ”
I study Nina, who is gorgeous and sweet and clearly trying to help. “Yeah, I really don’t think my pretending that what I did doesn’t exist is going to go down well with them. They’re not going to just forget I lied. Though it would be nice to hit a magical reset button and start over.”
“I’m not saying pretend it didn’t happen,” Nina clarifies, adding more water to the stones.
More steam hisses up, making the air almost thick enough to taste.
“I’m saying don’t let it define every single interaction going forward.
You apologized publicly. You told the complete truth.
You’re changing your focus to Reed, which is where it should have been all along.
Now you move forward and show them through actions that you’re trustworthy. ”
“Easier said than done.”
“Most worthwhile things are.”
We keep chatting, the conversation flowing easier now.
Nina tells me about a difficult customer at the bakery who insisted their gluten-free muffin wasn’t gluten-free enough.
I tell her about a caller on my show who thought heat suppressants were a government conspiracy.
We laugh, and it feels good. Normal. Like maybe the world isn’t completely ending.
The heat in the sauna is getting more intense with each ladle of water Nina adds. My skin is slick with sweat, my face flushed, my hair sticking to my neck. But I relax for the first time in twenty-four hours, the tension slowly melting away.
“God, I desperately need a drink,” Nina states suddenly, fanning herself with her hand. “I’m dying in here. I’m going to go order us something. What do you want?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine. Something cold.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
Nina slips out of the sauna, and the blast of cooler air that rushes in when she opens the door is absolute heaven. Then the door shuts again with a soft thud, sealing me back in the heat.
I shift on the bench, trying to get comfortable, but my towel is getting stuck to my sweaty skin and it’s driving me crazy. The fabric is bunching weirdly in some places, pulling tight in others, clinging uncomfortably to my damp skin.
Screw it. I’m alone. I can adjust.
I stand up to fix the towel properly, pulling it open to unstick it from my skin, and I’m completely naked, arms raised with my unwrapped towel, when the door opens.
I squeal. “Nina, I’m—” The words die in my throat.
Jam. Get stuck. Refuse to form.
Because standing in the doorway, holding a tall glass of ice water with condensation dripping down the sides, wearing absolutely nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist, and looking like every single fantasy I’ve ever had come to devastating life, is Slater.
His eyes lock on to me. Every inch of me because I’m thoroughly naked.
For a frozen moment, neither of us moves.
Then I frantically yank the towel up, wrapping it around myself with shaking, fumbling hands, and a different kind of squeal tears from my lips. High-pitched. Panicked.
“Oh my God!”
A slow, absolutely devastating smile spreads across Slater’s face. His eyes are sparkling with amusement and something darker, hotter, more dangerous.
“Hello, Anita.”
Nina set me up, didn’t she? This wasn’t a spa session for us to relax.
She coordinated with Slater, planned this whole thing with him. I’m going to absolutely kill her.
Right after I die of complete and utter mortification.