Page 50 of About that Fling
She grinned. “Leave your shirt off and I’ll say the same.”
He watched as she began rubbing the towel over her head. She wandered over to sit on the edge of the bed, and Adam stood there, not sure what his next move should be. Did he join her? Give her space?
The hell with wondering. If he’d learned nothing else as a counselor, it was the benefit of direct communication.
“What are we doing here, Jenna?”
She pulled the towel away from her face and sighed. “Trying to remember why it’s a bad idea to sleep together?”
He smiled, pleased she didn’t try to play games or pretend she didn’t understand the question. “It feels different when we’re behind closed doors, doesn’t it?”
She nodded, and Adam made his way over to the foot of the bed. He sat down beside her, enjoying the warmth of her shoulder brushing his arm. His bare foot touched her sock-covered one, and the intimacy of it made something inside him twist into a big, glowing knot. He hesitated, then put his hand on her knee. It felt comfortable there, the curve of her kneecap fitting perfectly into his palm.
He turned to look at her and felt his heart lodge in his throat. She’d wiped off most of the mascara, so her face was bare and lovely. Her eyes met his, and he tried to remember if he’d ever seen such a deep shade of blue anywhere else. What was the word for it? Azure? Cobalt? Cerulean? Where was the fucking Crayola box when he needed it?
“You’re staring again.” Her voice was breathy and soft, and he knew she was thinking the same damn thing he was. He ached to kiss her. Every atom in his body screamed with the need to slide his fingers into her damp hair, to tip her chin up so their mouths fit together and their knees bumped on the edge of the bed.
“If I kiss you right now, we know where this will end up.” His voice didn’t sound like his voice, but that seemed okay somehow.
Jenna nodded. “I know.”
“So it seems we have two choices here. Option one, I put your wet clothes in a bag, shake your hand, and send you on your way home.” He swallowed, wondering how it was possible to feel this warm with only half his clothes on. “Option two, we undo all this fine work we’ve just put into donning clothing and I take you in my arms and kiss you until neither of us can breathe.” He paused. “The gentleman in me says the latter isn’t a good idea, since you’re a little upset.”
“I’m not upset.” God, her eyes looked stunning. “Not anymore.”
“Okay,” Adam said. “Which do you choose?”
She was silent a moment, her eyes dark and needy. He waited, not wanting to rush her, knowing whatever they decided would change everything. Jenna licked her lips, and Adam nearly groaned with desire.
“I choose option three,” she whispered.
“Option three?”
“Option three. You kiss me once. Only once, and with both of us remaining upright and fully clothed.”
“Okay.”
“Then we agree that even if we can’t make love, we seem to be drawn to each other for some reason. So maybe we should just explore that friendship and connection in the most platonic, unromantic way we can think of.”
“Unromantic?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure. Shoveling dog doo for my neighbor?”
He snorted. “That’s unromantic, though it might be a little late for that. You and I might get a ride in a squad car if your neighbor spotted two strangers roaming his backyard in the dark with shovels.”
“Okay then.” She frowned in concentration. “How about algebra?”
“I just closed out a spreadsheet, so that’s too much like work. We could watch a documentary on childbirth.”
“What about a robust discussion of Marxist philosophies of dialectical materialism?”
“Now you’re just getting me hot again.”
“I know!” Jenna jumped up so fast she nearly knocked Adam backward on the bed. “Let’s shoot guns!”
“Guns?”
“Yes. That’s unromantic.”
