Abhimaan ran on the treadmill at the highest of its speed, huffing as he did so; the sweat trickled down from his forehead, traveling down to his cheek to his sculptured, chiseled jaw before disappearing inside his vest.

Thoughts—way too many thoughts—were running inside his mind like a broken record, their first kiss flashing in front of his eyes again and again, much to his dismay.

He wanted to forget it but couldn't.

His phone rang, which made him groan, as he switched the treadmill off and received the call, as it was important.

"I want the work to be done by tomorrow." He tossed the phone aside and took...