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contained, the potential hidden within her skin and running through her veins. Then he showed up again and it was like waking up from a dream. Like remembering what your limbs, your heart and your breath were for.
    She rushed inside the bathroom, closed the door, and leaned her back against it, forcing herself to catch her breath. Her thighs tightened and she felt the telltale slickness that always accompanied his presence. She wrapped her arms around her waist, touched the curve of her hips where his fingers had so brazenly ignited her body's responses. Her breasts were still tingling from being pressed against the warm expanse of his defined chest. He smelled unmistakably like him, like the soap he used and that masculine scent underneath that reminded her what his sweat tasted like, what his skin felt like under the blunt edges of her teeth when she needed more than just a taste.
    God, she didn't want to go back in there. She thought she was over this. In a slight panic she remembered his eyes on her. There was a time she would have died to have him look at her like she was something special. Now she wished that magic would fade away. It made her wonder what she looked like when her eyes had met his. She ran to the mirror.
    She looked half-spooked, half-ravenous. Wide-eyed. Breathless. Lips parted. Chest heaving.
    Fuck!
    She might as well say, “Take me! Take me now, big boy!" It would be less obvious than her pathetic attempts to hide what she was thinking and feeling. She'd never been able to hide things well, not from him. He must have seen everything, probably smelled her lust coming off her in waves.
    This couldn't be happening. No, scratch that; she wasn't going to let this happen. She had a guy waiting for her out there, someone who had helped her heal when this lust and all the love that got tangled up in it hadn't been enough to save her from a broken heart. He was going to pick her up in a few hours for fuck’s sake.
    Travis. A different man entirely. Black hair to Gabe's dark brown. Blue eyes to his molten chocolate. Deep, animated voice to Gabe's raspy rumble... a rumble that still sent quivers over her skin...
    "Ugh, get it together already," she whispered, almost desperately. "You're so over this."
    Liar.
    That one little word, whispered in the back of her mind was enough to make her start drowning in her own fears.
    What if she wasn't healed up from this? What if she was never going to be?
    It didn't get any better when she forced herself to calm down, put on a brave face, and left the bathroom after practicing enough fake smiles to make a beauty pageant contestant wince. It didn't get any better as conversation picked up speed and Ian asked Gabe to be his best man at his wedding. It didn't get any better when he graciously accepted, and promised to be there no matter what, especially since his schedule dictated he'd be in town until the spring.
    And it didn't get any better when Gabriel asked her more about what was going on with her.
    How did she say something like this and not make it sound like she was trying to gloat, to hurt him? Hell, who was she to think that's how he'd feel about her moving in with her boyfriend anyway? He'd had plenty of time to get over her. He had a life of his own to worry about.
    "Well, I'm moving into a new place," she said softly, tucking one leg beneath her on the couch, while gripping the other one to her chest like a security blanket.
    "Oh, yeah?" Gabriel said, pulling her out of her nervousness with a lopsided grin. He seemed genuinely happy for her, just like he had about her book. "No more Mrs. Habberdash, huh?"
    She laughed at that, though she still felt Jackie's eyes on her like a laser over Preston's head, and could see Ian busying himself with sipping his drink. Maybe she should take a cue from her sister and be blunt and brief. Real friends were real with each other, and that’s what they’d agreed to be. This was really no big deal.
    "Yeah, I'm moving in with