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brilliantly. Being young and physically fit has definitely helped you with that.”
    A warm glow expanded inside me at his praise.
    The doctor showed me how to attach my new limb, and I smiled at him as this time he put out his hand and helped me to my feet.
    “Have a walk up and down the corridor for five minutes,” he told me. “Make sure it feels completely comfortable. If there are any niggles or anything rubbing, just say, because what feels like something tiny after five minutes, will feel like a rock caught inside the sleeve after you’ve worn it all day.”
    “Thanks. I guess I’ll be back in five minutes, then?”
    His smiled widened. “See you in five.”
    I did as he suggested, walking up and down the hospital corridors, focusing on how the new leg fitted and if there was anything causing me any discomfort. As far as I could tell it was far superior to the other one, and I loved the freedom of not feeling like half of my lower body was encased in rubber. Some people might get their kicks from that kind of thing, but I wasn’t one of them.
    I went back to the doctor’s office and told him I was completely happy with the new prosthetic.
    “That’s great,” he replied, scribbling something on the notes in front of him. “We’ll schedule you an appointment for the same time next week, and then you can take your new leg home.”
    “Thank you so much.”
    “You’re very welcome.”
    He left me alone to put my old leg back on, and then I gathered my purse and made my way out of the hospital and into the parking lot. The idea of my new leg had put me in a great mood, and I planned on treating myself to a drive-thru Starbucks on the way home. Since losing my leg, I had begun to truly appreciate the genius of a drive-thru anything .
    My car was in the other handy thing I’d learned to love—the handicapped spots, right next to the entrance.
    As I fumbled in my purse for my keys, I lifted my head and a figure across the parking lot made my heart stop.
    I’d only ever seen him one other time as an adult, but despite this, I recognized him instantly—the newly tattooed sleeves, the broad shoulders, the buzzed short blond hair. My heart leaped into my throat, my body tensing. Absurdly, my first instinct was to throw myself onto the ground between the two cars I was standing beside, and hide until he had gone, but I knew if I did that, I’d never get up again.
    Keep walking, I willed him. Don’t turn around.
    And yet, as though my thoughts had caused him to do so, Cole threw a casual glance over his shoulder and his line of sight landed directly on me.
    He smiled at me, and then turned directly around and strolled toward me. I stood, rooted to the spot, my cheeks already burning.
    “Gabi,” he said as he approached. “Are you stalking me?”
    My eyes widened. “No! Of course not.” I gestured wildly behind me. “I had an appointment.”
    “It’s okay. I was kidding.”
    The burning in my cheeks grew hotter. “Sure. I knew that.”
    His eyes were so blue, and exactly as I remembered them. He’d always had a way of seeing right inside me, his eyes able to search my face and know exactly what was written on my heart. I didn’t feel like that had changed at all.
    “So, is everything okay?” he asked.
    I nodded. “Yeah, I was just seeing my specialist. I’m going to be getting a new leg soon.” I felt ridiculously awkward and embarrassed talking to him about my amputation. This guy had once upon a time used his tongue to trace every inch of my skin, and now a massive part of the skin he’d loved—or at least had said he’d loved—no longer existed. Was it weird for him, too? Or did it completely gross him out and he was trying not to think about it?
    “So you get a new leg?” he asked, appearing genuinely curious. “Do you have more than one?”
    “Well, I have two legs, but only one prosthetic leg.”
    I was pleased to see his cheeks color in return. I had gotten to him, and for some