The masseuse, still calm and professional, kept working her way down Macey’s legs. The second her hands glided over herfoot again, Macey lost it. A full-body twitch, followed by a burst of barely contained laughter, muffled by a hand over her mouth.
I watched in delight. “You are ticklish.”
“I amnot.” Macey gasped, sounding desperate. “It’s just my muscles reacting.”
“Yeah. Reacting like a kid getting poked in the ribs.”
She glared at me, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed, right before another stroke of the masseuse’s hands sent her into another helpless giggle—followed by a sudden flail of her leg.
It took me a second to process what happened, but when the masseuse let out a soft “Oh!” and Macey practically launched herself upright in horror, I was the one losing it.
“Oh no,” she stammered, turning to look at the masseuse she’d just kicked. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—oh no, this is mortifying.”
I shook with laughter. “No, this is incredible.”
Macey held the sheet against her chest, but she didn’t let that stop her from glaring at me. “I hate you.”
The masseuse, the true MVP in all this, just gave a small, amused smile. “It’s okay, miss. This happens sometimes.”
“Does it?” I asked slyly. “Because I feel like it doesn’t.”
Macey peeked at me again, eyes still sharp despite her obvious humiliation. “I will kick you next.”
“Worth it.”
She let out another muffled groan, but I caught the way her lips twitched. And when the masseuse very carefully avoided that spot for the rest of the session, I had to fight back another laugh.
11
NOAH/MACEY
Noah
By the pool, we had time to do nothing. Unfortunately for us, that meant catching up with work. I was editing video footage from this morning as Macey frantically typed on her laptop next to me.
I glimpsed yet another look at Macey out of the corner of my eye. One navy blue bikini was enough to send me to an early grave. I didn’t know what was appropriate for a fake boyfriend to say or do, so I settled onto my own lounge chair, and she did the same. We were close enough that I could smell the coconut sunscreen on her skin, mixed with the vanilla orchid oil from the massage.
Macey lifted her head from her laptop. “Sometimes I don’t understand how Victoria graduated with an English degree. She used the wrong version ofyourversusyou areagain.”
“Victoria?”
“My boss.” She shut her laptop and placed it into her bag. “She can be difficult to work with, but at least with her I have a path atRoamer’s Digest.”
I paused the video. “Do you guys not get along?”
“It’s complicated. She’s tough on everyone but only ever rude to me. I know she’s made me a better writer, but sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.”
“No job is worth losing your sanity. If you learned what you can learn, why stay?”
She stared at me, pensive. “You’re very good at simplifying things.”
“Life’s complicated enough already.”
“True.” Macey pushed her sunglasses up to the crown of her head. “I don’t know why romance books make fake dating out to be this big deal.” She laughed. “All we have to do is hold hands and make moony eyes at each other.”
“Moony eyes?”
“You know, like theI-want-you-so-badeyes that you toss at me every few minutes.”
