Listed: Volume III by Noelle Adams Page A

notorious
photograph of him nearly kissing Emily in the ice skating rink.
    They
hadn’t known anyone had recognized them and snapped the picture that afternoon
until it appeared in the local paper the following day.
    In
the photograph, Paul’s arms were wrapped around Emily with a kind of intimate
entitlement, and she was pressing herself against him, her face turned up for
his kiss. His head was tilted down toward her, an expression on his face that
had encouraged the stories of tragic romance that were going around the gossip
circuits. An expression that made Paul extremely uncomfortable.
    He
wasn’t embarrassed exactly, but that expression seemed to reveal certain things
about him that he’d prefer to not be shared with the world at large.
    The
photographer had caught him in the moment before the kiss, but he would rather
the picture have been his kissing Emily for real. At least that would be
physical. The photo as it was conveyed something more emotional than physical.
    It
made him cringe every time he looked at it, overwhelmed with an appalling
feeling of being completely exposed.
    Emily
had taken the picture in stride, quipping that her only problem with it was
that her ass looked way too big.
    Her
ass hadn’t looked too big. She’d looked curvy, feminine, and vulnerable somehow
with her blonde ponytail and hands clutching at his shirt as she waited for his
kiss.
    If
Emily wasn’t worried by the photo, then Paul shouldn’t be either. But it seemed
ridiculous and offensive that so many people thought they had a right to know
and discuss what he did with his own wife on a random Saturday afternoon.
    He
stopped scanning through the links in the email since they only served to annoy
him more.
    It
took a while, but he managed to focus on his work again, and he was surprised
by Emily’s voice from the doorway sometime later.
    “You’re
back early,” he said, smiling in response to her friendly greeting.
    She
frowned. “It’s almost ten.”
    “Is
it?” He glanced over at the panel of windows and was surprised to see that they
were no longer lit by the sun. “Did you have a good time?”
    “Yeah.
It was pretty good.” She’d walked into the library. She was dressed casually in
jeans and a black top and she looked a little tired, a little pale.
    “Are
you sure? They treated you well, didn’t they?”
    She
smiled at him, almost fondly. “Of course, they did. They’re good people. It was
nice. It was really nice to see them again.” She paused and slanted him a
diffident look. “You could have come too, you know.”
    “I
know. I had a lot of work to do.”
    “Okay.
But…”
    “But
what?”
    “I
just wanted to make sure you know that I would have been happy if you’d come
with me.”
    Paul
wasn’t sure what to say in response, so he just said, “Thank you.”
    “Did
you get a lot of work done?”
    “Yes.
I’m mostly caught up now.”
    She
peered around, evidently taking note of the empty coffee cup on the desk. “Did
you eat anything for dinner besides coffee?”
    Paul
rubbed a hand through his hair and tried to remember. “I guess so. I must have
had something.”
    Emily
rolled her eyes but didn’t pursue the matter.  “Well, I’m kind of tired. I’m
going to take a bath and go to bed.”
    “Okay.”
Then realizing he’d better explain their sleeping situation, he added casually,
“I had them put your stuff in the master bedroom, if that’s okay.”
    “That’s
fine.” She exhaled visibly. “It’s kind of strange to be back in the neighborhood,
isn’t it?”
    “Yeah,”
he agreed, gazing around the familiar room and trying to feel like he was at
home here again. He’d been raised in this house.
    “It
seems like ages ago now,” she added.
    It
did seem like ages ago—endless, aching miles. “It hasn’t really been that
long.”
    “Yeah.
I guess.” She gave him a tired smile and turned to leave. “Don’t work too
late.”
    Paul
wasn’t planning to work very late, and he