Page 26 of Simon Says

A slow steady rain added to the chill in the air and limited the visibility through the windows.

It was cozy. And intimate.

Simon took another bite of his pita sandwich and wished like hell he had the same loaded cold cut triple-decker that Dakota devoured.

She’d driven them just a few blocks from the gym to a deserted park. She kept the engine running with the heat on low and a CD playing. He wore only a long-sleeved tee and jeans; she’d taken off her coat.

Around a mouthful of food, she asked, “Is my hair curling?”

Simon settled against the passenger door and surveyed her. “Do you realize that your conversational topics are usually pretty hard to follow?”

“Yeah, I know.” She shrugged. “Sorry. But see, it’s raining and I didn’t expect that. The humidity makes my hair curl. And frizz. I’d have pulled it into a ponytail if the weatherman hadn’t outright lied to me, claiming it’d be a nice day.”

Her hair was frizzing a little, but it looked cute. “You’re fine.” Simon eyed the sweatshirt again. “I take it you’re into barbers?”

She glanced down at her chest and smiled. “A friend gives me this stuff on holidays. I have a whole line of barber-joke apparel.”

“He’s not a boyfriend?”

She shook her head and said emphatically, “No.”

The way she stressed the negative made Simon wonder, so he kept quiet and waited for her to elaborate. She did.

“I’m too busy for any steady dating or anything. And besides, I’m picky.”

“Picky how?”

“No smokers, no druggies, no heavy drinkers.”

He avoided the same people. “You call that picky?”

“In today’s world, yeah.”

“What else?”

“Hmmm.” She considered her preferences while wolfing down another big bite. “Well, I’m not keen on stuffed suits, or guys that are into total grunge. And definitely no wimps or whiners.”

“I don’t like whiners, either. Anything else?”

“No young’ uns. A man has to be at least my age or older.”

A perfect lead-in. “And you are…?”

“Twenty-three.”

Simon snorted. He’d thought her a little older, maybe closer to his thirty-one years. “Any younger than you and he’d be in high school.”

She ignored that. “And because I have to travel a lot, no one who’s too clingy. I hate all that mushy heartbreaking drama, ya know?”

She really did have a long list, Simon realized. But fortunately, he didn’t fall into any of her taboo categories. He respected his health too much to do drugs, smoke, or over-drink. And he’d never been clingy or whiny a day in his life. “So do you ever date?”

“Not very often.” She averted her gaze—and that got Simon to speculating.

“When was your last date?”

For the longest time, she didn’t answer, choosing instead to stare out the window. The CD played, vying with the howling wind.

Simon was about to change the subject when she said, “It’s been so long now, I can’t remember exactly.” Suddenly she turned to him. “What about you?”

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