I begin to work the body butter into her ankle. When I move to the other foot, Nadia is a gorgeous, incoherent mess, but she manages to pull herself into the here and now to ask. “Are you into feet? Is that why you’re asking? I’m okay with it if you are,” she adds hastily.

I can feel her body tense, and I shift to her right and begin working my fingers into her calves. “I’m not into feet,” I tell Nadia once I feel her relax under my hands. “I just thought you had really cute feet—”

“Sexy feet,” she corrects me. The words are muffled slightly by the pillow under her head.

“Sexy feet,” I repeat.

She groans when I use my knuckles against a knot in her calf. “Oh my God.”

“You should tell Darren to give you regular massages,” I say offhandedly.

“Mmmm, he used to.”

“Used to? What happened?”

“He got me pregnant with twins,” she says.

I have to sit back on my heels to properly laugh at that one. “Of course, that’s what happened.”

Her hand smooths up my thighs in a gentle caress and then just rests there, her fingers dancing at the crease of my leg. “Isn’t that what’s about to happen with you?”

She smiles at me, but the left half of her mouth is squished into the pillow. God, these two. “I mean… I can try, but I don’t think I can get you pregnant with this massage,” I laugh.

“I had my tubes tied after the boys,” she says casually.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to say this, but I don’t want any secrets between us. “Yeah, Darren told me.”

She turns, giving me a great view of the front of her body. I only glance at her breasts, I swear.

“I’m not done with your back,” I say, but she’s already scooted up the bed to rest against the mound of pillows.

She reaches for me, and I move toward her willingly. Happily.

We face one another, naked and both a little nervous. We bend our legs, and our knees touch again. But then something settles between us; our breaths even out, and our fingers meet at our knees and then tangle together, and then finally, our eyes meet. If we weren’t naked and I weren’t wet, this would be something similar to the cute little girls’ nights I have when my best friend flies into town.

“Do you want children?” Nadia asks, her eyebrows bunching together.

“Are you going to take over this massage?” I laugh.

Nadia smiles, but she doesn’t laugh along with me. Her hands squeeze mine, and she looks at me seriously, waiting for an answer.

“Do you want me to want children?”