Page 47 of About that Fling
“I’ve done that a time or two,” he admitted. “Once I was on the opposite end of it though, and a girl standing near the one I was making eyes at thought I was flirting with her. She came over to my table and introduced herself.”
“What did you do?”
He shrugged. “Bought her a drink, talked to her for an hour, and walked her home. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Geez, you really are a standup guy.”
“Or a wuss. I suppose it’s all about perspective. Okay, how about saying goodbye to someone you’ve been talking to and then realizing you’re walking the same direction?”
“Yeah, definitely awkward.” Jenna seemed to hesitate, then leaned back against the wall beside him. Her shoulder brushed his, sending lightning bolts shooting through his torso. “How about when a car stops to let you cross the street and you start jogging to be polite, but then realize you’re giving him a jiggle show?”
“Nice.” He forced himself not to look at her chest. “You win. I don’t think I’ve ever given anyone a jiggle show. Not that I wouldn’t applaud yours.”
She smiled and took a deep breath before glancing back toward the dining room. Toward the linebacker. When she turned to Adam again, her smile had faded a little. “Thanks, Adam. I needed that. I should probably get back.”
“Don’t you have to pee?”
“Not really. I just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.”
“Fair enough. Also, for the record, if I could rewind and strike that last question from the record, I’d do it. In the future, I’ll do a better job of making conversation that doesn’t involve inquiring about someone’s bathroom habits.”
She smiled again, but it wasn’t reaching her eyes anymore. They’d flickered again to the table in the corner, and Adam wondered whether she was eager to get back to the guy or eager to end this conversation.
“I should probably let you go,” he said. “If the ex awkwardness gets to you, you can always pull the fire alarm.”
“Good plan.” Jenna sighed and ran her hands over her hair. “It’s okay, really. He’s a good guy, and probably exactly who I ought to be hanging out with tonight.”
Something in her tone made Adam lose the urge to joke. “How do you mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. It’s been nice talking to you, Adam.”
“Likewise,” he said, stepping aside to let her pass. She stood there for a moment with her hands at her sides, looking a little lost. When she moved, it was in the direction of the bathroom.
“I guess I’ll go after all.”
“Good plan,” he said.
He turned and walked into the men’s room before any other idiotic utterances could pass his lips. He took care of business quickly, then washed his hands while looking in the mirror and giving himself a silent pep talk about not lusting after women he had no business pursuing. She’d made it clear that wasn’t in the cards for them. There was no point giving it any further thought.
He left the men’s room and headed for the front counter, happy to discover the pizza he’d ordered was ready to go. If he’d had it delivered instead of walking four blocks from his hotel, he never would have seen Jenna. He tried to decide if that was a good thing.
The pizza box was warm and fragrant and bigger than it had any right to be, considering he was a guy who planned to eat it alone in front of the television in his hotel room on a Friday night. He tucked it against his chest and headed for the door, but he couldn’t resist the urge to look back at the corner table.
Jenna had rejoined her ex. Whatever they were talking about looked intimate, and their heads were bent close together. Even from this distance, Adam saw something tender and wistful in her eyes. When the guy reached out and put his hand on Jenna’s, she didn’t pull away.
Adam hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking until someone bumped him from behind. Even then, he stood frozen in place. Something twisted in his gut, and he stood there transfixed, his eyes on Jenna and the man she’d once planned to spend the rest of her life with. How long ago was it?
She must have felt his eyes on her then, and she looked up. She didn’t seem startled at all to see Adam watching her. She blinked slowly, then looked down at her hand. The other man’s palm still covered it, and she seemed to hesitate a moment. Then she drew her other hand up and placed it on top of his.
A hand sandwich, Adam thought absurdly, then turned away. He stepped out into the rainy Portland evening, wishing like hell he’d had the pizza delivered.
An hour later, Adam sat shirtless in his boxer shorts on sheets too clean to be truly comfortable. He’d polished off his pizza and felt a little sick. He was pretty sure it was just the pepperoni, but who was he kidding? The image of Jenna with that other guy kept flashing through his brain, which was stupid. He had no right to be jealous. No right to judge her for reconnecting with a man she’d loved enough to agree to marry at one point.
The idea of getting back together with Mia seemed ridiculous to him now, but there’d been a time he would have considered it. Could he blame Jenna for doing the same with her ex?
He picked up the remote and began flipping through channels, trying to get the image of her out of his mind. QVC was selling some sort of kebab maker that caught Adam’s interest for at least twenty minutes. One of the Rocky movies—was it IV or V?—flickered on the next channel. He flipped the remote button again, feeling irritated. Why were there so many home-improvement shows?
Adam sighed and set the remote down. Nothing on TV was any match for the image of Jenna’s eyes meeting his from across the room, the sight of her fingers entwined with someone else’s.
