Page 20 of About that Fling (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #2)

The man hadn’t changed much in the year since she’d last seen him, or in the two years since she’d broken off the engagement. That was disappointing. It might have been better if he’d gained fifty pounds or sprouted another chin.

That’s not nice , she chided herself, trying to remember some of the touchy-feely things Adam had been teaching them in mediation this past week.

“Shawn,” she said, running a hand over her hair. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, getting pizza?” He said it with a smile to take the edge off, but Jenna still felt idiotic. “I assume you’re doing the same?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t been here since—well, for a long time. I just thought?—”

“I know,” he said, reaching out to touch her hand. “Two years ago today, right? We must’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Jenna gaped at him, a little dumbfounded he’d remembered the date at all. He must have read her thoughts, because he offered a sad little smile. “Don’t look so shocked, Jenna. It was a big deal to me, too. Come on. Want to split a pizza?”

She tried to think of a good reason not to share a meal with her ex-fiancé at their old haunt on this cheerless two-year milestone, but all she could come up with was, “Um.”

Shawn nodded, taking that as concession, so he took her hand as well. Jenna let him lead her to a booth near the back, far away from the karaoke stage. She was numb enough that she almost didn’t notice it was the same booth they’d been sitting at when they had their first date five years ago.

“You want the usual?” he asked, and Jenna nodded, figuring it was easier than trying to remember complex words like pepperoni and olive .

She glanced toward the bar. “Split a half carafe of their house red?”

“Coming right up.”

She started to open her wallet, but he waved her off and headed for the counter.

Okay then. She put her wallet away and tried to calm her nerves.

She wasn’t nervous about seeing him again, at least not that way.

She didn’t still love him. She wasn’t even sure she liked him all that much, but she was surprised to realize the resentments had cooled and the sadness had ebbed, leaving behind something that felt like?—

Like what, exactly? Numbness? A sense that she should be feeling something—anything—but really she just wanted to paste a smile in place and plow through the awkwardness as quickly as possible.

Was this what closure felt like?

“Here you go,” Shawn said, dropping into the chair next to her and handing her a glass of red wine. “Pizza will be up in a few. So how have you been, Jenna?”

“Good,” she said, taking a tentative sip. “Aunt Gertie is healthy and happy. Work’s going great.”

“Work,” he said, nodding as he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and set it on the table beside his own glass. “That’s great. You’re still at the hospital?”

“Yes. Did I hear you changed jobs?”

“Yeah, I’m with the same group as Allison Ross. You still work with Allie, right?”

“On occasion. She’s hosting an event at Belmont next month.

” Both Allie and Shawn worked as Certified Association Executives, which is how they’d all met in the first place.

Their jobs involved lobbying and developing public health policy, which was what had put Shawn in Jenna’s orbit in the first place. “How’s Allie doing?”

“Great, great.” Shawn sounded distracted, and she watched his gaze wander back to his phone. He jerked it right back, making an effort to look at her as he spoke. “Can’t complain about the new office. It’s really nice—right on the river.”

“That’s great.” She struggled for something to say. “Tell Allie hi when you see her.”

“Mmmhmm.”

She watched as his fingers slid over the power button on his phone. His eyes were still on hers, but she could tell his brain was already wandering through his in-box.

“Must be nice working that close to home,” she said.

“Actually, I moved. I’m over in Lake Oswego now. The commute is a bitch, but I love the new house. The views are great.”

“Great,” she said, doing a mental head-slap at the fact that two educated people couldn’t seem to come up with a better adjective than great . “I’m very happy for you.”

His phone vibrated, and she watched his gaze flick away to read the message. He moved his eyes back to hers an instant later, doing a perfect impression of a man connected to the conversation. “You still living in the old place and walking to work all the time?”

“Yes.” Amazing how an eye-rolling urge came rushing right back as he peered at his phone again. “I love having the fresh air and exercise at the beginning and end of each day.”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes flicked back to the screen, though he left the phone flat on the table, tucked behind his wineglass.

At least he was trying to be discreet about it.

At least she no longer cared, no longer felt the urge to reach across the table and grab his phone so she could beat him over the head with it.

His inability to carry on a conversation without checking his goddamn messages every ten seconds was no longer her concern.

Was it someone else’s? She tried to decide if she cared. She didn’t, at least not in the sense that it bothered her if some other woman was now sharing his bed, his life, his dreams.

He tapped out something on his screen, and Jenna bit back a flare of frustration. She took a deep breath, remembering the tip Adam had offered in mediation about breathing before speaking. She did it a few more times for good measure.

“So you like the new job?”

“What’s that?” He looked up at her, his hand still poised on the phone.

“Your job. You like the new place you’re working?”

“Yes, definitely. Much more challenging. The pay’s better, too.”

His phone buzzed with the sound of an incoming text message, and Shawn looked down at it. He nodded absently, then reached for the device and began typing quickly with his thumbs.

Jenna took another sip of wine and glanced around the restaurant. Was it only a couple years ago this had been their old stomping ground? Funny how much her life had changed since she’d been Shawn’s fiancée, since they’d been planning a future together and?—

“Will you excuse me a sec?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “I just need to check on the pizza.”

He needed to make a phone call, she guessed, but Jenna just nodded and watched him walk away. She looked at her watch and wondered how long she had to make polite conversation with him before she could safely go home and put on her pajamas and watch trashy TV. An hour? Forty-five minutes?

She slid off her chair, catching Shawn’s eye and gesturing to the far corner of the restaurant to let him know she was going to the bathroom. He barely glanced up from his phone as she moved through the crowd, picking her way past bistro tables strewn with beer mugs and half-eaten pizzas.

As she neared the restrooms, she took one last glance at Shawn. He had his phone pressed to his ear, and was making a hurry-up gesture with his hand. Jenna sighed, shaking her head as she pivoted fast and marched around the corner.

“Ooof!”

She crashed into a wall with a fleeting thought of who changed the layout of the restaurant. Belatedly, she realized it wasn’t a wall at all. Not one made of bricks or wood, anyway.

She put her hands out to catch herself, pressing her palms against the chest she’d spent too much time staring at in a photograph lately. She looked up into those green eyes and lost her breath.

“Hello, Jenna.”

If thinking about Jenna on a random Friday evening was enough to conjure her up and have her fall into his arms, Adam figured he should probably spend more time imagining himself winning the lottery.

It wasn’t random, dumbass. You came here hoping you’d run into her.

Not literally, though. “Whoa there,” he said, catching her by the shoulders and setting her upright. Mistake. A surge of electricity fizzed through his fingers and up his arms, leaving him eager to touch more of her. All of her.

“Adam,” she gasped, looking flustered. She stared at her own hands, like she was trying to figure out how they’d ended up pressed against his chest. He didn’t care, he just wanted them to stay there.

Instead she pried her hands away and took a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was planning to take a leak, then order a pizza. Pretty much the normal things you do when you’re walking to the bathroom at a pizza parlor.”

“No, I mean here —I mean—never mind.”

“You told me Rigatelli’s was the best. I wanted to check it out for myself.”

“Right. The karaoke doesn’t start for another hour.”

“I didn’t come for the karaoke.”

He let the words hang there for a moment, wondering if she’d read into that or just assume he meant the pizza. He wasn’t sure himself.

She glanced over her shoulder at a table in the corner where a dark-haired guy with the build of an NFL linebacker sat hunched over a table, fiddling with his phone. Adam studied the guy for a moment, then looked at Jenna.

“Ah, I get it. You’re on a date. Don’t worry, Jenna. I’m not planning to make a scene. Well, not unless you want me to.”

“No, it’s not that. Not a date, that is.

” She blew out a breath and glanced over her shoulder again.

“It’s just my ex-fiancé. We just ran into each other, and it’s kind of a significant date in our history, so it sorta morphed into dinner together.

” She shrugged and gave a look like she wanted the ground to swallow her up.

Or maybe Adam was reading too much into it.

“Anyway, the whole thing feels really awkward, you know?”

Adam nodded, oddly relieved to discover she could relate to the sort of ex weirdness he’d been dealing with all week. “Ah, the joys of unwelcome fraternization with an ex. Is there anything more awkward?”

Jenna gave a funny sort of half smile and looked thoughtful. “How about singing along with Vanilla Ice and realizing your car windows are down?”

He laughed, admiring her quick wit. “Did that really happen to you?”