Page 31 of The Plus Ones
It’s interesting that neither of us has thought to text our friends since we started drinking at the airport lounge in Newark.
The front desk clerk is a middle-aged lady with a stunning smile, and she says, “Ohhh, you must be the other beautiful couple we have been expecting.” She shakes her head. “Six of the most beautiful guests we have ever had here!”
I put my arm around Roxy’s shoulder, and she wraps hers around my waist. “Wearea beautiful couple, aren’t we? See, honey?” I muss up her hair. “She’s so insecure about being less attractive than me, but I keep telling her—I’m not out of her league at all.”
“Aww, sweetie,” she says, patting my chest and grinning at the clerk. “You’re in a league all on your own. Nothing will ever change that.”
The lady smiles and hands our passports and my credit card back to us, along with two keys and a map of the resort. “You are in the Hibiscus cottage. We are here.” She marks an X on the map with a pencil. “Your cottage is here.” She circles the Hibiscus cottage with a heart. It is way at the end of a winding path, and if my mind goes to whether or not our friends will be able to hear us should we make any loud noises—well, it can’t be helped.
“Ajay will take your luggage to the cottage for you.”
When I see the clerk look over my shoulder and swoon a little bit, I know my friends have just walked in.
Sure enough, Matt and Chase are strolling toward us, looking like an underwear model and the lead singer of a grunge band on vacation. They remove their aviator sunglasses at the same time, almost as if they rehearsed it. Roxy sees Bernie and Aimee outside and runs to meet them, patting Matt and Chase on the shoulders as she passes by. The sudden loss of her arm around my waist is surprisingly upsetting.
“Welcome,” Matt says to me. “How was your flight?” He’s wearing off-white drawstring linen pants and an unbuttoned white shirt with flip flops and a straw panama hat, but he doesn’t look the least bit douchey. I hate him.
“How do you already have a tan?”
“I’m from California.” He shrugs. “I’m good at tanning.”
“’I’m good at tanning.’ That’s not a thing. I hate you.”
He shrugs again, pats me on the arm, and walks back outside to join the women.
Chase lowers his voice and hooks his arm around my neck, only somewhat menacingly. “Getting along with your girlfriend, I see.”
“To a degree.”
“Which degree would that be?”
“The one that allows for good-humored friendly flirtation and does not involve any form of penetration. Yet.”
“You need to rein it in.”
“You need to have sex with your wife a couple more times, and then we’ll see if you feel the same way about what my dick’s up to.”
He considers this and releases my neck. “Fair enough.”
“I ran into Tamara’s brother at the airport,” I say as we walk out of the lobby. “She’s coming back to New York. By herself. She didn’t tell me.”
“Sorry, man. You okay? You’ve moved on, right?”
“Obviously.” I glance over at Roxy—but only because she squeals loudly and bounces up and down when she’s talking to Aimee and Bernie.
Chase pats me on the back and then picks his wife up, cradling her in his arms. Aimee just grins at him like a horny idiot and kicks her feet up in the air. “We’re gonna go Skype with Finn and then figure out a way to pass the time until dinner. See you guys at the restaurant.”
Matt and Bernie exchange looks. “Um, we’re actually gonna go Skype with Harriet and Daisy now too,” Bernie says as she laces her fingers with Matt’s. “Unless you want us to have a drink with you at the bar or something?”
Matt is already pulling her down the path away from the common area. “See you guys at dinner!”
And once again, I can practically hear Roxy thinking, “Thanks for leaving me alone withthisguy.”
But she doesn’t look annoyed. She removes her shoes and dangles them from her fingers.
“You want to get a drink at the bar?” I ask her.
“No way. I want to see the cottage! Race you there!” She takes off running, passes our friends, and gives me that little smirky look over her shoulder once she’s a safe distance away from me.
