ConvenientStrangers Read Online Free PDF Page B

know.”
    “But the passion wasn’t there. All the logic you want, but
not the filth. The good kind of filth.”
    Stephen poured himself a fresh half-shot and raised it in
salute.
    “We made sense, but we weren’t hot together. Not in the
spontaneous, effortless way I wanted. And to be totally honest, part of the
reason his dumping me stung so bad was that in the back of my head…”
    “You always imagined you’d be stuck dumping him?”
    Adam huffed a tiny laugh through his nose. “Exactly. It
sounds petty, but yeah.”
    “We’ve all had one of those. One of those ones where you
want to shout, ‘I was going to dump you, you know! You just beat me to it.’ But
thankfully most of us don’t actually say that. Much as we want to.”
    “Sort of wish I had. Well, no, I don’t. Would’ve wrecked the
best thing about that relationship, all that grown-up-ish-ness. And I put off
ending things because this was supposed to be my smart, successful
relationship. I was worried I was sabotaging things, throwing it all away
because we weren’t perfectly compatible, sex-wise, because maybe deep down, I
was just afraid of committing. Anyway.” Adam poured himself a swallow of
scotch, wincing as it went down.
    “So now that you’re eight months—plus three weeks—older and
wiser,” Stephen said, eyes on the liquor swirling in the glass he held, “what
have you learned? You still fancy yourself a rational bloke? Or you going back
to the bad decisions you’d hoped he’d rescue you from?”
    Adam shrugged. “Is it naïve of me to think I might find
both?”
    “For the sake of all mankind, I hope not.”
    “Me neither. But I’m not in a rush to settle down. I’m in
rebound mode, so shallow as it is, I’m only really preoccupied with the hot
factor. Not for revenge or anything. I’m just all OD’d on good decisions for
the foreseeable future. Um, no offense.”
    “None taken. Rather fancy the idea of being someone’s bad
decision.”
    “Oh good. I think.”
    Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “What do you do, anyhow?”
    The liquor spurred Adam’s reply, turning what could’ve been
a simple, neutral answer into a shameless flirtation. “Guess.”
    Stephen took the bait, leaning back in his seat and giving
Adam an over-the-top, thorough study. “You’re clever.”
    “Thank you, thank you.”
    “But you look pretty fit.”
    “Thank you even further.”
    “But I bet that’s the gym, yeah?”
    Adam smirked. “Guilty, Mr. Foreman. Sorry.”
    “No, no. I’m not bothered. So you’re clever and you can
afford a gym membership and a terrible leather couch. You an academic?”
    He shook his head.
    “Something utterly dull under the vague, catchall banner of
‘business’, then?”
    “No, thankfully not. I’m a physical therapist.”
    “Ah, right. Like sports injuries? All these college football
players crippling themselves for a chance at going pro?”
    “Oh God, no. A gay guy, hired to, like, rub a bunch of young
straight guys’ pulled groin muscles…?”
    Stephen blinked, seeming to be struggling to find an issue
with such a scenario.
    Adam laughed. “No thank you. That’s an invitation to get
sued for harassment by parents or students the second I mention my orientation.
Not a cause I’m brave enough to champion. Plus younger guys don’t do much for
me.”
    “Whose pulled groins do you rub, then?”
    “Very few people’s. I work for a medical center, doing a lot
of rehabilitation. Car accidents, mostly, and some post-surgery rehab.”
    “That’s terribly noble.”
    Adam shrugged the compliment away. “It’s just a job. When I
was nine my mom was in a horrible wreck and lost her right arm. I thought the
guy who worked with her after she got out of traction was the greatest thing
ever. Now that I do that stuff myself, I know it’s nothing heroic. It’s just a
hard, rewarding job that needs doing.”
    “You’re rather fascinating,” Stephen said, giving Adam a
squinty, calculating look that