More Than Physical (The Physical Series Book Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

going to the music of ABBA. That was quite a spectacle.” He chuckled at the memory.
    “ABBA? Seriously? Now, if you would have said he sang to AC/DC or Guns-n-Roses, then I would believe you,” she grimaced. “Or maybe a good rendition of Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond.”
    “Hey, now there’s an idea…” Mark pondered, his finger coming up to tap his chin. “You guys could throw a 70’s-themed party. Everyone comes dressed up in glittery disco-era clothes, you play the music of the decade, etc. That could be fun.”
    She snorted, trying to picture Rylie dressed up with white pleather boots and mile-wide bell bottoms. And then an unbidden picture of Jackson popped in her head of him dressed like one of the Village people, wearing an open collared button down, chest hair on display, gold chain necklace around his neck, a thick mustache, and a tool belt.
    “Yeah, maybe. I do like the Studio 54 potential,” she snickered, her naughty thoughts taking her to all kinds of possibilities. “I guess I could ask Jackson what he thinks about that idea. I’m sure he won’t care, either way. He’ll probably just leave me to all the details, anyway. Asshole .”
    “Now, now. Don’t go jumping to any conclusions. I think you’re underestimating his creative side. The guy is seriously into music and art. I think he’ll surprise you.”
    She nodded in agreement and they continued their discussion for the next few minutes until Mark was called to assist with a trauma. Sasha hated saying good-bye and ending their call, but her spirits were lifted after their conversation. She missed being able to talk to her friend anytime she wanted. Her best times in life had always been spent with Mark.
    But now Mark was half-way around the world and Rylie, although Sasha worked with her every day, was wrapped up in her new life with Mitch.
    Sasha could feel the first inklings of depression eating away at her psyche. The darkness manifesting like a cloak, slowly creeping over her like the fog over the San Francisco bay. She hated the cloying weight pressing down on her heart, the sadness that occupied her thoughts.
    Shaking off the despairing loneliness, she found the TV remote lodged in the seat cushion and started her movie. No more sulking and sadness allowed tonight. No more wishing Mark wasn’t so far way or worrying about her feelings toward Jackson.
    For now, she’d let the ballsy-ness of Molly Ringwald’s character in the movie delight her with her sense of style and grace, and lift her sagging spirits.
    And a little more ice cream wouldn’t hurt, either.

Chapter Four
     
    The Labor Day barbeque party was in full swing when Jackson finally made it out to Mitch’s house on late Monday afternoon.
    He was tired, but sated, after his weekend in New York, and had barely gotten home to shower and change before heading over to Mitch’s. Stopping by one of those hoity-toity, granola-like grocery stores, he picked up some made-to-go salads and pasta dishes to bring with him, along with a nice bottle of wine.
    Jackson made his way through the crowded house, saying hello and shaking hands with those he was familiar with, scoping out the others in attendance. Since it was a Labor Day barbeque and pool party, most of the guests were dressed in beachwear or board shorts. He himself had dressed casual in a navy blue T-shirt, khaki cargo shorts and flip-flops, his hair still a bit damp from his shower.
    Dropping off the salads in the kitchen area, Jackson grabbed a beer from the fridge, scanning the patio outside, quietly appreciating the women in their bikinis and swimwear. It was a hot, Boston end-of-summer day, and the heat was oppressive, the air tinged with just enough humidity to have the cotton of his T-Shirt clinging to his back. Maybe he should’ve worn his swim trunks, because a dip in the pool would feel pretty good right about now. Although he was standing in the middle of the air conditioned house, a bead of sweat rolled down