Page 55 of A Labor of Hate
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.I nodded dumbly instead as my world came crashing down around me.
Oh, no.No, no, no, no,no.This couldn’t be happening.The butterflies.The goosebumps.The loss of all intelligent thought.
I squeaked out a thanks and practically jumped away from him like his touch lit my nerve endings on fire.Because it did.And I didn’t like what that meant.At.All.
I flashed a nervous smile and rushed from the room, mumbling something about getting ready for bed.I didn’t know what he had in mind for Liam, but knowing him, it wouldn’t be anything brash or illegal.It would be premeditated, thought-out, and devastating.Exactly what Liam deserved.
As much as I wanted to stay and find out, I wanted even more to put some space between us.Anything to get away from him and clear my head.The same head that practically spun with its latest realization.
I threw myself into the shower, scrubbing off my ruined makeup and the day’s humidity.Even the shower couldn’t drown out the thudding of my pulse or the racing of my thoughts.
Something had shifted between us.Knowing why he was the way he was, being mutually vulnerable with each other for possibly the first time ever, had given my head permission to accept what my body had been telling it this whole time.
The smokescreen of our rivalry was gone.
Poof.
And what remained was the hard truth that my strong, visceral reaction to him wasn’t hatred.It likely never was.Being near him flipped my stomach.Touching him burned my skin.Seeing him altered the course of my day.But I didn’t hate him.
Oh, no.It was much worse.
I hadfeelingsfor him.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Lex’s Top SecretMental Log, Undercover Assignment, Days 15-16:
Monday morning, the knuckles on The Spouse’s right hand were red and raw.When asked about it, The Spouse shrugged it off and smirked.
Liam finished his visit to his parents.He left with an extra pound cake and a fresh black eye.
The coffee maker made a mysterious and sudden reappearance on the kitchen counter.The Spouse’s apple juice has suddenly and mysteriously stopped getting watered down.
Shopping for maternity-friendly swimsuits that wouldn’t expose the fake belly is the most humbling experience I’ve ever had.And I made it through years of classical dance lessonsandQuantico.With any luck, I won’t have to use the swimsuit and can happily burn it in the backyard after the spa day is over.
Despite my freak-out, I’m not worried about my recent realization concerning my feelings for The Spouse.Really.It’s a stupid crush I developed because we’re pretending to be in love and he finally opened up to me.It will pass.Perhaps like a kidney stone, but it’ll pass all the same.
Moving around without the extra shoulder straps on the belly has proved unnatural.It is my opinion that I could dip a kettlebell in oil, strap it to me, and accomplish the same sensation.But with less sweat.
I still don’t know the difference between a Swedish massage and a Shiatsu massage, but the Swedish one probably doesn’t involve meatballs.Which is a crying shame.
If I make it through the spa day unscathed, it will be a freaking miracle.
VIVIENNE GREETED ME with a hug when I finally managed to waddle into the spa’s lobby.I held the bottom of my tummy in place as it threatened to slide off me, courtesy of the sheen of sweat coating my real stomach.With any luck, the silicone stomach wouldn’t make any conspicuous squelching noises.Considering my luck thus far, though, I wasn’t banking on it.
She didn’t seem to think the action unnatural and instead chatted happily about the spa’s various amenities as she led me to the front desk.
“Hello, ladies!”the attendant chirped.“Welcome to Bella’s Bliss Salon and Spa.Do you have an appointment with us?”
Vivienne confirmed our appointment, apparently complete with the “total package” and a couples’ prenatal massage.
“I hope it’s okay I booked the massages as a couples’ massage,” she rushed out, resting a hand on my arm and her brow furrowing.“I just want someone to talk to and don’t want you to be alone too much for your first spa day.”
I smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness.I’d bemoretouched if I were actually pregnant and didn’t run the risk of her finding out my stomach was fake, since we’d be in the same room now.But, she’d be relaxed and hopefully chatty during the massage.If I were to discreetly probe for information, this was my best bet by far.I’d just have to ask the masseuse not to massage my back.Or claim I was wearing one of those belly support bands under my tank top and absolutely couldn’t take it off under any circumstances.
I swallowed down the trepidation rising in my throat.“That’s really thoughtful, actually.A couples’ massage sounds great.”
I’d just have to get creative.
