Free Separation Anxiety by Lisa Suzanne Page A

Probably tall and blonde and blue eyed with fake chests and faker personalities. Definitely not any of my attributes.
    I wanted to be the type he dated, though.
    I shrugged. “Yep. I like my food.”
    “Like those potato skins yesterday?” he asked.
    I grinned. “God, those were delicious,” I moaned, closing my eyes in delight as I remembered that delectable combination of potato, cheese, bacon, grease, and sour cream. I noticed him shift in his chair again, and then he grabbed his wineglass and took a huge gulp.
    “So,” he said, clearly changing the subject, “how did things go this afternoon?”
    “Not great,” I said. I took a bite of the risotto and mentally patted myself on the back for a job well done since it tasted fantastic, too.
    “I heard what you said to your mother,” he said.
    “Which part?”
    “Do you really think your family won’t support you? That you’ll be the black sheep?”
    I shrugged again. “I don’t know. My family is very conservative, much more than I am. I always believed that marriage is only supposed to happen once in a person’s life, but that was before the person I married became someone I don’t recognize anymore.”
    “ What did he say today?”
    I sighed. “ I told him I wanted a divorce. He said he’s not going to sign the papers.”
    Jesse’s eyes darkened. “Fucking asshole.”
    “Tell me about it. He said I’m stuck until he decides he’s ready to sign.”
    “Then let’s make him ready.”
    Let’s? As an English teacher, I knew that “Let’s” was a contraction for “let us.” Us. Us. He just called us an “us.”
    Obviously, I took a moment for a mini freak out in my mind at the thought of being part of an “us” with Jesse.
    I gulped down some wine while I composed myself. “How?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “I’ll think of something,” he said as if it were a simple problem with a simpler solution. I loved how he made me feel like he would just automatically take care of things. With Richard, I had never felt that. I’d always felt like I was in it by myself, and while I’d always enjoyed the independence that gave me, I was starting to realize how much I missed out on by never feeling like I was part of a team.
    We ate in comfortable silence for a few moments.
    “So, who’s the flavor of the week?” I asked, trying to dispel some of the sexual tension I was feeling between us. I hoped that if I could just get the attention on whoever he was currently banging, I’d stop picturing myself as the woman he was currently banging.
    His eyes met mine and he raised one eyebrow. My breath left my body as he stared me down. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the look in his eye, but I almost sensed some irritation. At me?
    “There’s no current flavor,” he said, his voice deep and quiet, his eyes never leaving mine.
    So much for breaking some of that sexual tension.
    He cleared his throat. “And, again, I’d like to ask what exactly you think I do in my spare time.”
    “You’ve admitted to me yourself that y ou have a new flavor every week,” I said lightly.
    “When?” he challenged, narrowing his eyes at me as he took a bite of chicken.
    “Random times. Like over a text, or in a passing conversation.”
    I watched him chew that chicken, and even that somehow turned me on. I gazed at his strong jaw as he chewed, that jaw covered in just enough scruff to be really, really sexy. An image of that stubble rubbing across the inside of my thigh came to mind, and just staring at him across the table from me was enough to send a shot of lust right through my spine and straight to my lady parts.
    I knew I had to stop that train of thought in its tracks, but I didn’t know how to.
    I thought Jesse was hot the moment I laid eyes on him nearly five years earlier, and we’d built a trusting coworker relationship and friendship over time. I’d always nursed a crush on him.
    But I’d never actually been available to act on that crush.
    Not