No Kissing Allowed

Epilogue (Part 2)

"Maybe both."

A strand of her hair had come loose from her ponytail, and he twirled it around his finger. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.

"What?" She extricated her hair and cuddled up to him, her head lolling on his chest.

"Dare I ask, what happens next? Once the flood recedes?"

She shrugged. "It's going to leave a big stinking mess."

"Metaphorically speaking?"

"No, I'm literally worried about my neighborhood being covered in raw sewage."

She felt his chest vibrate with silent laughter. "Right, but I meant what happens to us. A big stinking mess?"

She looked up at him. "A little messy. My friends don't think you're a very nice person."

He knotted the hair around his finger again and gave a gentle tug. "They're not wrong."

Cora stopped his hand and freed her hair. "Don't say that." She readjusted her ponytail to tie the loose strand back, out of harm's way. Then she popped another rugelach in her mouth and offered the bag to Jamie, but he waved it away.

"I'm all right. You have the rest."

"But you only had one!" she protested.

Jamie didn't answer. He pulled his boxers back on and got out of bed, lowering himself to the floor. He'd been using the rug next to her bed as an exercise mat to do his ab workout each morning. "Too many carbs," he told her between crunches. "I'll trade my share of rugelach for the tuna if you don't mind."

"Plain tuna fish? For breakfast?"

"Lean protein. I need to cut some weight."

"What?!" Cora squeaked, watching the way his muscles rippled as he worked out. He'd run through this routine every morning on the beach during their time in Mexico, along with a daily jog back and forth at the edge of the surf. Personally, she preferred to spectate rather than join him. And they'd both refrained from commenting on each other's exercise habits, or lack thereof.

They weren't so different, she had tried to tell herself in Cozumel. She had a gym membership and occasionally used it—just not when she was on vacation. And he obviously kept in shape, but she'd also witnessed him polishing off plates of pasta and chocolate cake, not to mention all the margaritas and pina coladas. He'd never turned down food during their stay in Mexico, so his refusal this morning took her by surprise. "You can't be serious."

He tossed an answer over his shoulder as he flipped over and pulled himself into a rigid plank. "Afraid so. Back to reality."

Cora scoffed. "Stop it. Your body is ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as it needs to be if I'm to go on booking underwear campaigns." He collapsed to the carpet to rest a moment before planking again. "My agency wants me below 8.5% body fat, as a general rule." His voice barely gave away the strain as he put himself through the exercises. "Part of the job."

"8.5%? Is that even healthy?"

He rolled over and began another interval of crunches. "I have no idea. The point is to look healthy in photos." He patted his toned stomach, and then pinched a bit of skin between his fingers. "See that? That wasn't there when we left. I've been letting myself go."

Cora looked down at her own stomach, rounded beneath the silk fabric of her robe. She adjusted the folds to cover the cellulite puckering her outer thigh.

"Don't do that." Jamie came back to sit beside her on the bed. He slid his hand back up the part of the thigh she'd tried to cover.

Cora met his eyes.