Page 35 of About that Fling
Adam frowned, not sure how to read that response. He didn’t have to wait long.
Jenna McArthur: Christ, I was kidding, but oh my God. How is it possible for someone to look that hot lounging in bed on a random Saturday night?
Adam smiled. At least she wasn’t annoyed, or worse, offended. He decided to push his luck.
Adam Thomas: Your turn.
Jenna McArthur: No way. I’m a woman. I know better than to send sexy photos to strange men on the Internet. Besides, I wasn’t kidding about wearing your ex-wife’s dress, but I was kidding about taking it off. Still wearing the damn thing. Does that weird you out?
He hesitated, sensing a distinct shift from flirtation to something much more serious. He went for honesty again.
Adam Thomas: You mean does it weird me out that you swap clothing with my ex-wife, or does it weird me out that you’re still fully dressed? Yes to the first question. No to the second.
Jenna McArthur: It’s a yellow silk sundress with an empire waist, an asymmetrical hemline and contrast stitching beneath the bust. Familiar?
Adam frowned. Was she asking if she was wearing a garment he’d ever removed from his ex? He wasn’t sure if this was a joke or not, but it definitely wasn’t flirtation. He could understand why the whole thing might feel odd to her. It wasn’t jealousy, precisely, but something else. It was one thing to know a partner had lovers before you. It was quite another to wear her clothes.
Adam Thomas: I understood “yellow,” “dress,” and “bust.” Beyond that, you’ve lost me in the fashion nuances.
Jenna McArthur: You’d make a terrible cross-dresser.
Adam Thomas: I’ll mark that off my list of professional ambitions.
He stared at the screen a moment, not sure whether to keep the conversation going in this direction or to try to shift things back to humorous flirtation. What did she want?
Jenna McArthur: I’m sorry about this afternoon. About kissing you on the roof.
Adam Thomas: You can kiss me on the veranda anytime. Though maybe the lips would be better.
Jenna McArthur: LOL. The Three Amigos, right?
Adam Thomas: Yep. And don’t worry about it. The kiss was perfectly tolerable. Maybe a little less tongue than I might have liked, but I’m not in a position to be picky.
Jenna McArthur: Thanks. I’m not sure why I keep doing that.
Adam Thomas: Kissing me or stopping?
Jenna McArthur: Yes.
Adam Thomas: Kissing me = Because I’m irresistible. Stopping = Beats me.
Jenna McArthur: Maybe because we’re working together and you used to be married to my best friend?
Adam Thomas: Oh, yeah. Details.
Jenna McArthur: She’s my best friend, Adam. I can’t betray that.
He frowned, fingers hesitating over the keys.
Adam Thomas: Understood.
That wasn’t entirely true, but this wasn’t the forum to delve into it. He hesitated with his fingers on the keys, trying to think of some way to avoid letting go of this connection with her.
Adam Thomas: Okay then, what’s a platonic topic? Baseball? Books? Pizza?
Jenna McArthur: I hate baseball, I love spy novels, and I will fight to the death if anyone challenges my assertion that Rigatelli’s makes the best pizza in Portland. Maybe in the universe.
Adam Thomas: Rigatelli’s?
