Page 82 of A Simple Reminder

“AAAHH!” I yelp, darting to the far side of the shower, desperately trying to escape the icy assault. The shower’s huge—big enough for two—but right now, I’m just trying to survive this cold-water ambush.

“Are you okay?!” Liam’s voice calls out, amusement lacing his words.

“Yeah, just got ambushed by freezing water!”

He laughs. “If you look to the right, there’s a handle. Just turn it to adjust the temperature.”

I find the handle, turning it to warm. Finally, blessed warmth fills the space.

“Why was it set to freezing?” I call out.

A beat of silence. Then he replies, “I needed a cold shower.”

I can almost hear the grin in his voice, and my cheeks heat up, a smile tugging at my lips. The innuendo is clear, and I can’t help but laugh,been there done that, buddy. Many times.

I continue pressing two other buttons–number five and seven–out of curiosity and am once again assaulted by jets—this time from the sideandthe floor. One shoots straight up my ass and I scream again, pressing the same two buttons to make the harassment stop. Apparently, I don’t know the saying that curiosity killed the cat.I just had to press and find out.

When I reach for Liam’s shampoo, the scent fills the air, washing over me like a whisper of the past. It smells exactly like him—clean and warm—and I pause, letting it linger a moment longer than I should, as if it’s grounding me in a way I didn’t expect. After rinsing it out, I glance at the shelf, searching for conditioner, not expecting much.

But my fingers catch on a bottle, and I blink, staring at it. It’s my favorite brand. The one I used to buy back in Spain. A strange warmth unfurls in my chest as I turn it over in my hands. He remembered. After all this time, he still remembered. It’s such a small thing, almost insignificant, but it feels like a thread connecting us—something he held onto, even when I thought everything between us had unraveled. For a moment, I just stand there, the weight of it sinking in, unsure what to do with the emotions curling inside me.

Once I’m finished, I step out and wrap myself in the big, fluffy towel he gave me, but I quickly realize I don’t have any clothes to wear. But Liam does. This is probably very inappropriate, but I have no other choice. I can’t sit around naked in a towel eating ramen with him.

I walk to his closet, a sprawling walk-in lined with oak, complete with a chaise lounge in the center. It’s every girl’s dream.

It’s fancy, organized, and very much Liam. You wouldn’t believe it, but Liam likes it neat and he loves quiet luxury. His suits hang in neat rows—black, gray, navy. Crisp white shirts are lined up beside them, and even his T-shirts are hung up, everything meticulously arranged. I open a glass-fronted drawer, finding a row of luxury watches. I remember how much he loved watches; back then, he had a couple of Rolexes, each tied to a specific goal. Now, he has over ten, including a Patek Philippe. A smile spreads across my face. He’s done well, reached his goals, and a sense of pride warms me.

Finally, I find what I’m looking for—sweatpants. I slip into a pair of gray ones and grab one of his T-shirts, pulling it over my head. It’s soft and smells like him, and I feel surprisingly at ease in his clothes.

“They look better on you than they do on me.”

Startled, I whip my head toward his voice, finding him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me. My heart stutters as I instinctively tuck my left hand behind my back, shielding the uncovered tattoo before he can see it. The concealer in my bag will fix it later—just not now. The dim light catches on his jawline, sharp and shadowed, and the way his T-shirt clings to his broad shoulders feels almost unfair. He’s in sweatpants that hang low on his hips, casual yet devastating, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. There’s something about him like this—relaxed but utterly commanding—that makes it hard to look away. Mouth-watering.

It feels almost too intimate. Yet, how it should be.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended as I tug at the hem of his T-shirt. “I didn’t have a change of clothes.”

“Not at all.” His eyes hold mine, a small smile playing at his lips. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”

Silence falls between us, a charged energy filling the air as we take each other in. It’s like everything unsaid is hanging there, electric. Then he clears his throat, breaking the spell. “Food’s here. Let’s eat, and then I want you to rest up a bit.”

He orderedfour different kinds of ramen, including my favorite, Szechuan, saying he wanted me to have options. But he didn’t stop there—there was also sushi, spring rolls, dumplings, and loads of tempura. We sat on the floor by his coffee table, surrounded by steaming bowls and plates, eating until we were full, just talking..

We talked about my dad, shared memories, and everything we’d been up to these past few years—years we hadn’t spoken. It was mostly work for both of us—long hours and packed schedules, with Liam traveling a bit more than me. Each story, each small laugh, each memory filled the room with a warm, easy comfort, as if no time had passed at all.

Now we’re talking about embarrassing stories.

“Micah and I took a guys’ trip to Thailand,” Liam continues, his turn to tell me a story, a grin already spreading across his face. “We spent the day exploring these insanely crowded street markets, buying stuff we definitely didn’t need. We chose Thailand because Micah wanted a ‘real Muay Thai experience,’ and, well, I was just being a good friend.” He chuckles, rubbing his shoulder as if he can still feel it. “Brutal, by the way,” he adds, rubbing his shoulder as if the memory still stings.

“Muay Thai in Thailand? Sounds like you got your ass kicked.”

“Oh, ass kicked is an understatement,” he chuckles. ”But trust me, that wasn’t even the interesting part. So, after that, our guide leaves us at a beach for a bit. Promises he’ll be back in, like, an hour.”

I narrow my eyes, sensing something’s up. “And let me guess… this wasn’t a regular beach?”

He gives me a sheepish smile. “Yeah, turns out it was a nude beach.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “No way! You surprise me, Liam. You don’t exactly look like a nude beach kind of guy.”

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