Read Online The Trouble With Flirting by Rachel Morgan - Free Book Online Page A

I can still have fun, right? I can dance. I like dancing. It’s happened mostly in the privacy of my own bedroom in the past, but I don’t think I’m that bad at it.
    If only Jackson were here to see my sexy dancing …
    I grab Allegra’s arm and motion to the dance floor with my head. If Jackson’s not here, and it’s too loud to chat to anyone, then the only thing left is dancing.

    ***

    The lights are out inside the house when I get back just before 1 am. I stand in the doorway and yawn, my eyes squeezing shut and my jaw just about unhinging itself. I keep telling myself that it isn’t all that late, but my body doesn’t seem to agree. Allegra and I would have stayed out longer, but I was getting bored with no Jackson there, and Allegra quickly lost interest after Rob started salivating all over a girl he’d only just met. We yelled our goodbyes to everyone, saying we had somewhere else to be.
    Yeah. Somewhere like bed.
    After locking the door, I remove my heels and tiptoe down the passage to my bedroom. A strip of light shines beneath Adam’s closed door, and I can hear the sound of muffled voices and studio laughter. He’s watching series again.
    I flick my light on and toss my shoes onto the armchair in the corner. I place my purse on my desk and notice something odd: a pair of polka dot underwear sitting on top of my laptop. Beside it is a note in Adam’s handwriting. Thanks, but I don’t think these will fit me.
    Oops. I guess I missed this pair when I was fishing my undies out of the washing machine earlier. Smiling, I head to the bathroom and turn the shower on. I wash the glitteriness from my skin and the smokiness from my hair. Once I’ve got my PJs and glasses on, I tap lightly on Adam’s door.
    The TV series laughter pauses, and Adam says, “Come in?”
    I open the door, but don’t step into the room. After our conversation earlier, I don’t know if I’m welcome in here anymore. “Hey,” is all I manage to say.
    “Hey,” he answers. He’s turned the computer screen on his desk so that it’s facing his bed. I recognise the paused characters on screen, but I ask anyway.
    “What are you watching?”
    “ The Big Bang Theory . Season three.”
    I nod. It’s one of my favourite series too. “I’m sorry about earlier,” I say, my voice so quiet it’s barely a whisper.
    He sits up on the bed and crosses his legs. “Me too. That probably wasn’t the best way to say what I was thinking.”
    I close the door behind me, cross the room, and climb over him to sit on the other side of the bed. I reach for the spare blanket at my feet and pull it over my legs.
    Adam hits the Play button on his remote, but turns the volume down so we can only just hear the characters. “How was The Purple Banana ?”
    I roll my eyes but don’t correct him. I know he’s just doing it on purpose now. “It was fine. No one offered me drugs or tried to do anything appropriate. The music was cool—when it wasn’t too loud—and the dancing was fun.”
    “But?”
    “Well, Jackson was supposed to be there, but he wasn’t.”
    “Okay.” Adam nudges his glasses up.
    “How was your evening? Did you kick everyone’s butt at whatever game you were playing?”
    “Of course.” He nudges my shoulder. “If you’d been there I would’ve kicked your butt too.”
    He probably would have, considering how long it’s been since I played. I pull my knees up and pick at a stray thread coming loose from the blanket. “I miss playing Xbox. I miss playing my violin. I miss reading and searching for new music to listen to. There just … isn’t time for everything.”
    “I know,” Adam says with a sigh. “That’s why you’ve got to prioritise. Choose the things that are most important to you. And … I guess the things that are important to you might not be the things that are important to me, and … that’s okay.”
    I nod. It is okay, but for some reason it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’m losing