A familiar face

Emily had just started her second round of seated rows when she noticed him.

Not head-on. Not obvious.

He was off to the side, near the pull-up bar, pretending to check his form in the mirror. But his eyes kept flicking. Not every few seconds—more like every few reps. Like he couldn’t help it.

She narrowed her gaze slightly, trying to place him.

Tall. Athletic build. Light olive skin, darker hair, slight curl at the ends. Stubble that looked too calculated to be accidental. He was wearing a tight gray shirt, black exercise shorts, and when he shifted, the shape straining inside them was hard to miss.

Her eyes widened just slightly, and then—click.

No way.

She wiped her hands and stood, glancing again. This time she caught him watching full-on before he jerked his gaze away and picked up a towel, pretending to be busy.

Rami?

He looked… different. Sharper jaw. More bulk to his arms. No longer the tall, lanky teenager who used to kick a soccer ball in the cul-de-sac or race his siblings on bikes.

And he was definitely aroused.

She didn’t miss that.

Emily blinked once, then grabbed her towel and walked toward him.

He noticed her coming. Tried not to. Turned his head like he wasn’t watching. But when she stepped into his periphery, he couldn’t ignore it.

“Rami?” she asked, lightly incredulous.

He looked at her then, eyebrows raising—but not in surprise.

“Hey,” he said, casual. A little too casual. “Mrs. Davenport.”

She laughed. “Please. Emily.”

He gave a half-nod, brushing a hand back through his hair. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

“That makes two of us.” Her eyes drifted meaningfully to the gym around them. “I thought you were still down in Florida with your family.”

Rami shrugged. “They left last week. I stayed behind. Summer internship lined up. Figured it was time to hold down the fort solo.”

Emily tilted her head. “All alone in that big house?”

He gave her a look—flat, unreadable.

“Unless I’m being watched.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“…Touché,” she said, after a beat.

But he didn’t smile. Not really.

She let the silence hang for a second, then softened. “I was just surprised. Your mom didn’t mention it when we last talked.”

At the mention of Ariana—his mother—Rami’s jaw twitched just slightly.

“Yeah. I’m sure she didn’t.”

Emily blinked. The tone was… off. Defensive.

“Is everything alright?” she asked. “I mean, if you need anything, I live right behind you. You know that. I just figured, being on your own for the first time—”

“I’m twenty,” he cut in.

Her brows lifted.

“I know. I just meant—”

“I’m not a kid.”

A beat passed. His shorts still showed the outline of his erection, even though he hadn’t adjusted or tried to hide it. If anything, his stance had only gotten more rigid.

And that was when she got it.

Oh.

He was still flustered. Not angry—embarrassed. Because he’d been caught watching. Because he knew she saw what was going on beneath those gym shorts, and now he had no way to play it off.

She gave a faint, amused smile.

“Well, I wasn’t trying to mom you, Rami,” she said, voice lower, warmer. “Just checking in. Your mom and I are friends. It’s what we do.”

He finally looked at her—really looked. His eyes trailed her for a second longer than was polite. Her snug racerback. The high-waisted leggings. The shape of her hips, the subtle bounce of her chest.

“You want to check on me?” he asked.

His voice was calm now. Measured.

“Come see the house. Make sure I haven’t burned it down or thrown a rave or whatever.”

Emily hesitated—but only for a second.

“…Alright,” she said. “I will.”