Free Hope Over Fear (Over #1) by J. A. Derouen Page A

an idea. Why don’t you stick around and eat with us, Adam? No need to rush home. We’ll even share our beer with you!” Alex smiles sweetly. She may look innocent, but I see her wheels turning.
    Adam looks at his watch and shakes his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I have somewhere to be. Some other time maybe. It was very nice meeting you, ladies. Sara, I’ll see you in the morning?”
    “Yeah, I’ll be there.” My eyes unconsciously watch Adam grab his pizza and walk out the door. When I turn back to the table, I see two sets of eyes boring into me.
    “What?” I ask innocently.
    “Don’t even try it, Dandelion. Alex and I just witnessed that little game of footsie that you and ‘sex on a stick’ were playing. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see it. Your lady parts need some attention, and that guy would be a fan-fucking-tastic way to end that drought of yours.”
    “There’s nothing going on, I swear. Celia is his girlfriend. I heard them talking about meeting up at nine, and he just told us he has somewhere to be. And look at the time … it’s 8:45. He’s just being friendly … I think.”
    “That was friendly, all right. If he’s got a girlfriend, then you need to be very careful with him, Sara. I doubt his girlfriend would appreciate him acting that way.” I see the concern etched on Alex’s face.
    “I met him and Celia today, so I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. I promise to tread lightly and keep myself out of any precarious situations. Cool?”
    I appreciate my friends’ concern, and I don’t take it lightly. I’ve been villianized for what happened with Mason, so the last thing I need is to take on the title of home wrecker.
    “Cool with me. That being said, I’ve got to state the obvious. That man is fucking hot. That hair, those crystal blue eyes, and that ass— somebody at this table better ride that cowboy and pass on all the dirty details.”
    “Marlo!” Alex and I scream at the same time. It’s like being friends with a five year old—she’s got absolutely no impulse control. I can’t help but love her, though. That level of honesty keeps things interesting.
    “Just saying …”
     

     
    Morning comes more quickly than I’d like, but my run energizes me. I breathe in the cold, dry air and revel in the feeling of my lungs expanding to their limits. I use this time to sort out the details of the past couple of days—to simplify what has the potential to become very complicated. Nothing or no one will jeopardize my work at the clinic.
    Celia and Adam are in a relationship. I felt the intimacy between them when I first saw them together. It was clear even from across the room. I keep trying to pound this information into my brain, because daydreaming about Adam is flirting with disaster.
    I know I’m foolish for entertaining these ridiculous notions about a man who I’ve spoken with twice. Twice! No contact with the male species has morphed me into an overzealous, horny teenager. A man shows me the slightest bit of platonic attention, and I’m a carving knife away from etching our names into a tree trunk. A little bit of extra attention? Sure, I’ll ‘fess up to that. Platonic attention all the same, though. Yet I still feel his fingers holding my wrist, the tingling sensation never quite diminishing. Shit, I’m pathetic.
    A date—that’s what I need to straighten out my shit. Never underestimate the power of distraction. If I’m thinking about my date, then I won’t be thinking about what’s his name. Marlo is on and off with a hot paramedic named Mike, and I’m sure he has some hot paramedic friends.
    As I finish up my run, I recap my objectives:
     
    1. I will focus on my clients; everything else is just background noise.
    2. Celia and Adam are an item, and I will respect that.
    3. My pathetic ass needs to stop reading into things that aren’t real.
    4. I’ll spend my time fantasizing about a hot paramedic guy, and I will forget about