Page 74 of Here We Go Again

“I have serious questions about how you managed to do this without me noticing,” I say.

“It was literally so easy,” she says. “You handed me your stuff and said you were going to pee and could I meet you at checkout. I just put the ones you wanted back on the rack and grabbed the cheeky ones instead. Then you paid for them, totally clueless about the switch.”

“So you’re saying I did this to myself,” I say dryly.

“You totally did. Okay, I gotta go,” Mia says. “But keep me posted, all right? If anything happens, call immediately.”

We say goodbye, and I head downstairs to the kitchen, keeping an eye out for Theo. I have no idea if he’s here. Maybe he went shopping with our moms? Or he could be on the beach or by the pool.

My stomach rumbles when I catch sight of the bagels, and I pop one into the toaster before pouring myself a mug of coffee.

Down the hall, I hear the clink of metal, like weights settling back onto a rack, and I make my way toward the sound. Sure enough, past the master bedroom, I find a small room outfitted as a gym, with a treadmill against the wall and a stationary bike, as well as a weight bench and bar and a rack full of free weights. Theo is standing in front of the weights, shirtless, his back toward me, curling a pair of enormous dumbbells. They have to be fifty, maybe sixty pounds each. He has headphones on and hasn’t noticed I’m here, so I linger a moment longer than I otherwise would, admiring the curve of his muscles, the definition of his back.

I used to watch him lift weights all the time, but he’s twice the man he was in high school. Taller, broader, much more defined.

Still, there’s something about this scene that triggers a sense of déjà vu. My eyes trace down his back. Just above his waistband, above his left hip, there’s a diamond of freckles I once connected with a Sharpie, like I was playing connect the dots.

The freckles are still there. Right where they always were.

Theo reracks the weights, and I dart away from the door, stepping back into the shadowy hallway before he sees me watching him. I hurry back to the kitchen where my bagel has already popped and make quick work of slathering it with the pineapple cream cheese I find in the fridge.

Moments later, Theo comes into the kitchen, AirPods out, a towel draped over his shoulder.

He’s glowy and glistening and absolutely gorgeous, and it’s all I can do not to stare.

“Good morning,” I manage to squeak out. “Have a good workout?”

He moves to the fridge and fills up his water bottle, then slowly looks me over. His gaze makes me twitchy, but not in a bad way. In an I really hope he likes what he sees way. “Not bad, considering the lack of equipment,” he says. “How are you? Sleep well?”

“Well enough.” I return the cream cheese to the fridge, then pull out the coffee creamer, moving back to the counter so I can add it to my mug.

To my surprise, Theo moves up behind me. He pulls his own mug out of the cabinet in front of me, then slowly fills it with coffee. He isn’t touching me, but he is standing very close. Close enough for me to feel the warmth of him, to catch the musky scent of his sweaty body.

“I’m glad you slept well,” he says, his voice low and close to my ear. “I had a harder time of it.”

“Did you?” I ask without turning around.

“I’d forgotten how distracting it is to be close to you.”

I suck in a breath. His tone is suggestive, silky, so flirty, and it wakes up every nerve in my body.

I turn around to face him, coffee mug in hand. “Is that so?” I say, looking up at him.

His lips lift the tiniest bit. “You look good, Bec. Really good.”

My eyes drop to his chest. “You aren’t so bad yourself.” I take a sip of my coffee. “But your form looked a little off this morning. You should tuck your elbows into your sides when you’re doing curls. It’ll help isolate the muscle.”

“You were spying on me?”

“I … happened to be passing by.”

“Passing by a room at the end of a hallway? On your way to where?”

He’s got me there, so I only grin. “I’m going out to the pool,” I say. I reach for my bagel, then carry my breakfast out the back door, feeling his gaze on me the entire time.

Here’s hoping Mia’s swimsuit bottoms really are as magical as she claims.

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