Simon has abs. Rock hard, clearly defined, delicious looking abs. How do I know? I've been staring at them all day. He must have gained an ab for every year we were apart. The man has an inhuman amount of energy. After a 5 mile run, he drove us to the ninja warrior gym I belong to.

"I think you should try it," Simon says, eyeing the salmon ladder.

We've already done all the obstacles I'm good at. Having him trail me around the gym has been a pleasant surprise. He's been thoughtful in his approach to the harder obstacles and willing to laugh at himself when he fails. I suppose it's only fair I return the favor. "I can only get three rungs. Ever."

His gaze slides down my body. "I'm betting on four today."

I laugh and shake my head. "Oh yeah? I've magically become stronger over night? I was here yesterday." Even still, I can't help my answering grin. I hate him and I love him for nailing every date so far.

Our unexpected encounter yesterday caused my insides to melt like gooey marshmallows, and today isn't helping that sensation. "You're not allowed to give me a hand." I point a finger in his direction as I stand in front of the obstacle. The bar lays across a set of angled rungs, and I have to pull my body up, lifting the bar into the next rung in mid-air. My abs ache just looking at it.

"I will keep my hands to myself." His lips twitch.

I stretch to reach the bar and then I pull up in a quick movement, drawing my knees up to my chest. I make one, two, three rungs, and I can't get the bar out of its slot again. With a frustrated noise, I drop down.

He stares at the bar, his expression pensive. "Can I try?"

I laugh. "If you can reach the bar."

He lifts his arms, and with a little hop, he's on the bar. Show off. He doesn't even need to lower it. Without saying anything he lets go, examines the bar again, and jumps with a wider grip. Simon pulls up, drawing his knees into his chest over and over until he reaches the top. "Now what?" he calls down.

"Ratchet back down or drop down and we can use a special stick to retrieve the bar." Although I never get far enough to worry about it, there are plenty of people who make this obstacle look easy when I'm here working out.

"I'm thinking that 5 mile run wasn't such a hot idea now." He drops down gracefully and shakes out his arms. "You could get at least one more rung, maybe two."

I eye him skeptically as I pass him the retrieval stick. We replace the bar and when I reach up and grip the bar, Simon hesitates a second before saying, "I think if you put your hands just a little wider, you'd get a better angle."

He's been good about every pointer I've given him throughout the course, so without comment, I inch my hands further apart. "Like this?"

"Yeah." He comes around behind me. "Permission to give you a hand?" His tone is teasing, but he won't touch me unless I agree. At least that aspect of him hasn't changed.

My lips quirk up. "Just one?"

"If you'll let me do two, I'll definitely use both." One hand comes to rest on my hip, and I'm keenly aware of the pad of each finger on top of the thin material of my T-shirt. A shiver of pleasure rolls over my body.

"I'm not sure I like you suggesting I'm a handful." Oh no. Even my voice sounds turned on.

"Two handfuls." His voice is rough, laced with the same desire that's hit me. "Perfection."

Against my will, my body heats. While we laid in bed, he used to cup my breasts in his hands—the perfect handful, he said as he ran his thumb across the nipple. At the memory, my nipples pucker. I close my eyes and will myself to focus. "What were you going to show me?" Is that squeaky voice mine?

He clears his throat. "When you bring your knees up," he cups my hips and my ass to assist me in a faster hinge motion. Of course he has to touch me now when I'm so turned on I could burst. "Try to do it quicker."

"Says the guy with the six-pack abs," I mutter.

He chuckles softly. "You're better than you think." His hands trail along my legs a little longer than necessary before he steps back. Once the warmth is gone, I want to call him back. With his hands on his hips, he takes a deep breath. "All right. We're going for five."

"You said four."

"Aim high, Tay. Aim high."

After a deep breath, I hitch up the first rung, and as I'm climbing one, two, three rungs up, Simon cheers me on. "Come on, Tay. Bring those legs up. Make those abs scream."

Something in me is dying to scream, but it isn't my abs. I hitch up to four, and I lower my legs, prepared to quit. That's a new record for me.

"Don't give up on me," Simon says, peering around the post so he can see me hanging. "One more."

"I don't think I can."

"You haven't tried. What's the worst that happens?"

Theworst that can happen? I losemy grip on the rail and fall to the plush mats below. Not the first time, but I'venever been so conscious of someone watching me. Releasing a deep breath, I tighten my grip on the bar and bring my knees up to my chest. I make the fifth rung and let out a gleeful laugh. Without thinking, I try for a sixth, but my arms have decided they're done, and my brain doesn't get the signal fast enough. The bar only makes it onto one slot, and I cry out as I drop backwards.

Long, muscular arms circle me in a bear hug before I hit the mat, and we tumble backwards together. My oof of surprise is followed by his groan.

"You're heavier than you look." He loosens his grip on my waist.

I roll over, still pressed against him and straddle his waist. "Are you okay?" He's got all his limbs, and nothing seems to be thrust out in a weird angle. No breaks or obvious damage. When I get to his face, there's a hint of a smirk. His hands rest lightly on my hips, and the warmth from before returns, swirling around my core like a serpent. How many times have I looked down on him like this? The ache inside me builds, taunting me to grind against him, lower my lips to his. Forget where we are and just let go.

Why does he have to be so freaking attractive?

"I've been in worse positions." His smirk widens to a grin.

I smack his chest and climb off him, cursing him and my traitorous body for remembering all too well how good we used to be together. Just like his approach to the ninja course, in the bedroom Simon was eager to please, to excel. If I wasn't satisfied, neither was he. A rare man. The kind you want to hang onto. Too bad I couldn't.

"I think we should go," I say, grabbing my towel and water bottle off the ground. "I should probably get home."

He's slower to get up and stays in a crouch position for a few breaths before rising. "You said we could spend the whole day together, Tay."

All these mixed up, muddled emotions where he's concerned need to go away. "It's already four o'clock." I nod to the clock above the door. "I need a shower, and I'm tired."

He runs a hand through the short strands on the top of his head, and they stick up at odd angles. "You can shower at my place. No more feats of strength, I promise." Our gazes meet, and his is full of frustration and pleading. "Let me cook you dinner."

I break eye contact and take a long drink from my water bottle. I am hungry, but I'm starting to realize too much time with Simon will break my heart...again. His motivation for pursuing me is baffling or maybe it's just that I don't believe the reasons he's given me. "Dinner," I agree. "But then I'm going home."

~ * ~

Simon showered first and then while I took a long, hot one, he started dinner. The rice bubbles on the stove, and he leans against the counter in his small kitchen. Rex is lying on a dog bed in the main room, his initial excitement over seeing me again has mostly subsided. It's the same apartment, but it doesn't look anything like the one I spent time in years go.

"The landlord let you make all these renovations? He paid for them?" I eye the white backsplash and grey cupboards. The countertop is a white and grey quartz. Neutral. Tasteful. So well done.

"Once I showed him a few other side projects I'd done, he realized I wasn't a complete idiot. My sister does interior design, so that was helpful too."

I run my hand along the wood and pop open one of the doors. "You made these from scratch?"

His lips twitch. "Yes. Took me a couple years to get the whole kitchen done. You're really this surprised? I made stuff all the time."

That's true. Any spare moment Simon had between me, running, and working, he spent doing odd projects in his parents' garage with his dad. Everything he made impressed me. Stools. End tables. Children's chairs or train sets. "Do you still sell some of your stuff?"

"The odd thing. My niece and nephew put in requests most of the time." He turns down the bubbling water. "I take a lot of extra shifts at work, so I don't have as much free time."

"You're such a contradiction," I muse, invading his privacy by peering into more of his cupboards under the guise of inspecting his craftmanship. They look professional. Can't fault him. Wish he had these skills when we were together. My kitchen needs an update.

"A contradiction?" He raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms.

I peek at his biceps, remembering how they looped around my waist. Another surge of desire pools in my belly. "You fly to Europe for all these meditation opportunities. Deep thinking or whatever that is. But at home, you bury yourself in work."

"I find my job rewarding." He shrugs. "Didn't you say you've been burying yourself in work too?"

"Yeah," I say. "But that's because..." The words die on my lips. I couldn't tell him the rest. Because I was afraid of making a connection like the one we had. To love someone to the depth I loved Simon has been impossible.

Ruby would say it's because I haven't allowed myself to invest in anyone else. I can't deny that's partially true, but I also don't think it's the whole picture. I've dated a few men who were similar to Si, but something was missing—sexual attraction, sense of humor, a love of animals, a sense of adventure—no one else had the exact combination Simon possessed.

Did I do it on purpose or is he really that special? The more time I spend with him, the more I remember what we once had. We were so good together, weren't we? How could we have had such different outlooks on our future as a couple? What was it about me that didn't fit? Sadness swarms my chest.

"Because?" Simon prompts, trying to catch my gaze.

I laugh, but it sounds false to my ears. "Because I find my job rewarding too."

He sighs, but instead of pressing me, he checks the chicken in the oven and stirs the sauce on the stove. "That why you're doing the rescue dog thing? How many did you and Ciro pick out?"

"Two," I admit, grateful for the change in subject, for the tightness in my chest dissipating. "We're going to see how we get along with them and then go from there."

"He's training them?" When the timer beeps, he removes the pan from the stove and places it on the heating pads.

"I'm taking the pup you liked," I admit. "I pick her up Tuesday."

Simon's eyes light up. "What time?"

"After work. Probably around 5:30."

He scans my face. "I'm not done work on Tuesday until five. Can I—can we switch lunch to dinner? I'll bring it with me. I'd love to see her again."

I bite my lip. The thought of having Simon in my little house is appealing and appalling. His apartment used to be run down but spacious. My house, in comparison, is cramped quarters. Our original plan was for me to take a longer lunch and eat at the hospital cafeteria with him. Nothing remotely intimate about that setting. Dinner at mine would be a whole different scenario.

"You can think about it over dinner." Simon plates our food.

We slide onto seats side-by-side at the island. His shoulder brushes mine as he cuts into his food. We eat dinner, mostly in silence. Everything he cooked is delicious

"Tell me your best memory from the last six years," Simon says as he takes my empty plate.

I tap my lip as I search through various travels and events during our time apart. "Backpacking through Australia for two weeks with my brother."

"Why?" he asks, loading the dishwasher and filling the sink for the items too big to fit.

"I can do those," I say, rising to stand beside him at the sink.

He scans my face, and my breath catches in my throat. There's such intensity and hunger in his eyes, as though, like me, thoughts of us in this apartment have taken over. So many times we worked after dinner, shoulder to shoulder, doing dishes. Other times, the dishes were ignored, a different sort of dessert on the agenda.

Once the sink overflowed on the floor while we made love on the island. When we emerged from the orgasmic haze, we laughed while we cleaned up the mess, surprised we became so lost in each other.

Now, he ignores the bubbles sprouting in the sink, his gaze fixed on mine. His hand lifts hesitantly before smoothing down the back of my hair. "I've missed you, Tay."

Instead of questioning him, I mute the voice of reason in my head. My body is switched on, yearning for him, for the surge of electricity. Will he taste like chicken and rice or like the minty gum he chewed all day?

His fingers graze my cheekbone, and warmth swirls out from my core, making my insides tingle. "Are you gonna kiss me, Si?" My voice is husky.

"Do you want me to?" The low tone of his words sends a vibration right to my core.

"Yes," I whisper because lying isn't an option. He's hands and eyes and lips, and I want to devour him whole.

Without hesitation, he slides his hands into my loose hair and tugs me against him, dipping down to capture my lips, seeking, testing, and then diving in. A sigh escapes me, and I clutch onto his biceps for a moment to keep from sinking into the ground.

He hits the handle on the tap with one hand and then lifts me onto the counter in a smooth motion, his lips barely leaving mine. My body is on fire, but my brain is starting to perk up, niggling thoughts invading the desire filled haze.

I kiss him harder, trying to convince myself the questions rising to the surface don't matter. My fingers tug at strands of his hair because as much as I want him, there's a part of me still confused and hurting.

What am I doing?

Author's Note:

What do you think of their dates so far? Will Tayla give into her feelings or will she throw on the brakes?

Also, for those who might have an interest in reading When Stars Fall (formerly Movie Star Memories)--it's becoming a Paid Story as of April 22nd. If you wanted to read it while it's free, you may want to hop on that now(ish) before it's too late. I'm really excited for the opportunity to be paid for some of my writing on this platform while continuing to offer other stories (like this one) for free. 😁⭐️

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