Chapter 33
33
It’s kind of nice, the four of us hanging out in one room, it’s still got that girly sleepover vibe. I thought we might be feeling a bit sick of each other by now – well, not sick of each other, but sick of not really having much personal space, but if anything the physical closeness has only made us, well, closer.
‘Are you really not nervous?’ Nita asks Lou.
‘Erm, not really,’ she replies.
‘I’d be bricking it,’ Nita replies.
‘I mean, obviously I’m nervous about the wedding in that I hope it goes well,’ Lou continues. ‘But as far as getting married goes, nope, not nervous at all – I can’t wait.’
‘I feel like that should make me feel sick, but I’m so happy for you,’ Nita tells her, scrunching up her face anyway.
‘Yeah, you and Ellis are perfect for each other,’ I add. ‘This is just the start of the next phase of your relationship, and it’s going to be even better than the last.’
‘Yeah, honestly, even if your wedding goes really, terribly wrong, you’ll still have such a happy marriage,’ Willow chimes in.
We all stare at her.
‘What?’ she says, furrowing her brow.
A knock on the door snaps us from our conversation. I nominate myself to answer it.
I wonder which boy it will be, only to see all four of them standing there.
The first thing I notice (well, the second, after how good Travis is looking today) is that Harry’s shirt clings to him with the unmistakable dampness of someone who’s been playing football under the sun for hours. He’d probably stink of sweat, were it not for the fact that they all reek of chlorine. I think they’re nose-blind to it now. They’ve just accepted it and now their nose cancels it out for them. We can still smell it though – big time.
‘Uh, quick question,’ Harry starts, rubbing the back of his neck as he chooses his words. ‘Do you have an iron?’
‘Because we’re women?’ Nita snaps at him.
Travis steps forward.
‘No, nothing like that,’ he insists. ‘It said in the listing that the villa had one, but we can’t find it downstairs. We’re trying on our suits, for the wedding, and the first thing we noticed is that the shirts are a little creased.’
‘I’ll have a look for you,’ I tell him.
‘That would be great, thanks,’ he replies.
You can see the gratitude in his smile. It’s warm and genuine.
‘You guys seriously smell like the pool,’ Willow tells them bluntly.
‘Cheers,’ Owen mutters, shooting her a look.
‘Look, you don’t want to try on your wedding outfits, if there’s a chance they might end up smelling like chlorine,’ I start, looking back at the girls briefly, giving them a look. Nita nods in approval. ‘Why don’t you use our bathrooms first?’
‘Really?’ Travis replies.
‘Yeah, absolutely,’ I tell him.
‘You have to give us something though,’ Nita says. ‘Something good – something really good.’
I glance back at her. Do they though?
‘What’s really good?’ Harry asks her.
‘A point in the competition,’ she says almost instantly.
Oh, so that’s where she’s going with this.
‘Not a chance,’ Harry says.
‘Not a chance you’re using our showers then,’ she tells them.
I sigh.
‘One sec,’ Harry tells her.
The boys huddle in the hallway, whispering together. Finally they join us again.
‘Okay, fine, we’ll give you a point if you let us use your shower,’ Harry says, smirking.
‘Deal,’ Nita says.
‘We would have swapped it for two points,’ Harry tells her, trying to wipe the smile from her face.
‘I would have let you use the showers for nothing, just to get rid of the stink,’ she replies. ‘Just do me a favour, yeah? Use someone else’s fucking shampoo.’
The boys just laugh – still no admission of guilt, but I think we all know.
‘We were actually going to get some air, so feel free to use all four showers,’ I tell them. ‘You don’t have to take turns in one.’
Travis smiles. I can tell he appreciates my more amicable approach.
‘Feel free to use our loo, if you need the loo,’ Harry says – kindly, but it doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.
The boys head off to get their things, so we make a move to head downstairs.
‘You don’t mind, do you, girls?’ I check.
‘Of course not,’ Nita says.
‘Yeah, I mean we basically owe them one for feeding us yesterday too,’ Lou adds.
‘And they really, really do stink,’ Willow says. ‘I was going to suggest we turn the hose to them, if there is one, just to try and blast the smell away. I guess this is nicer.’
Er, yeah, just a bit.
I’m the last one to walk downstairs, passing the living room doorway just as Travis is about to head upstairs, his washbag in hand – meaning they do have toiletries with them, at least. I’m guessing using Nita’s shampoo was a tactical manoeuvre, to try not to get caught, rather than just to really piss her off. I’ll bet that was just a nice bonus for them.
I flash him a smile, but Travis catches my hand in his as I go to pass him.
‘Honestly, thank you for this,’ he tells me. ‘I know we’ve been quite stubborn but this is really good of you. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one of my lot that remembers there’s a wedding at the end of this, and I did wonder how we were going to clean up. So, yeah, thank you.’
‘Ah, it’s nothing,’ I tell him. ‘Consider us even, after the food you made us.’
I lean in close and lower my voice.
‘And the other food, and the wi-fi password, and smoothing over things with my boss,’ I whisper.
‘You’re welcome,’ he whispers back – his whisper makes him about ten times more charming and at least fifty times sexier. ‘If there’s anything I can do, for Lou’s wedding – if you need anything, or want anything, just shout.’
‘I will, thanks,’ I say, giving his hand a squeeze.
He releases me and heads upstairs. I hold my hand in, well, my other hand. As soon as he let me go, it was like someone took a little piece of me.
I mean as far as anything I want, or anything I need, I hate to admit it but I think that might be him. Imagine if I hadn’t promised not to sleep with the enemy (figuratively and literally). I could follow him upstairs, slink into the shower with him, get all hot and steamy in the bathroom. I mean, that’s assuming he would want me to. I could throw my everything into what I imagine is a porn cliché – stepping into the bathroom and asking him if he needs a hand – and he might tell me to get out. Or he might just ask me if I’ll scrub his back, just a platonic favour, between one mate and another. You know what though? I’d do it. I’d wash his back. I’d… Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly. You thirsty girl. What is going on with me? If anyone needs a shower, it’s definitely me. An ice-cold one.