Shoving aside the terrifying realization that wanted to bloom, she held on and focused only on the heavy warmth of his body, the way he moved in her, on her, how he touched her, how he felt under her own hands, and how at the end, they kissed with their eyes locked.

Laveni pushed down her cat-eye sunglasses and looked at Catie over her latte, the drink delicately frothed and offered with a tiny cookie on the side. The two of them were sitting at an outdoor table at their favorite local café, the winter sunshine bright.

“You look like you got shagged,” the other woman declared.

Catie almost snorted her cappuccino out her nose. After coughing and recovering, she pointed a finger at her best friend. “Says the woman with stubble burn on her cheeks.”

Veni’s hands flew up, the purple of her suede jacket a dazzling pop of color. “What? Where?”

Catie cackled.

“Ugh.” Veni picked up her latte, took a sip of the foam, then licked off the traces on the dark plum curves of her lips. “So fine, we both got shagged. But I have a fiancé who just two hours ago returned from a long-haul trucking run.”

“What are you even doing here, Veni?” Catie shrugged off the faded denim of her own jacket to reveal the rich cerise of her silky top with its V-neck, the long sleeves cuffed at the wrists; she’d taken care to match her lipstick to the top. Catie and her bestie liked dressing up for their girl dates.

“I expected you and Ben to be shacked up for the next forty-eight hours at least.” Her friend worked twelve-hour shifts in the ICU, which meant that unless she decided to pick up overtime, she usually had multiple days off in a row.

Laveni waved a hand. “He’s out like a light, my poor baby. Said hi by the way. I told him I’d pick him up his favorite goodies from the café and a fresh coffee so he can have a feast when he wakes.”

She carried on. “So my love life already has a ring on it.” She waggled her left hand to show off the elegant and understated ring she’d chosen after gorgeous, besotted Ben proposed over a candlelit dinner he’d made himself—with a little help from Catie. “I’m far more interested in talking about what you’re doing with Danny.”

“Why?” Catie asked, delighted that Veni had found such a wonderful, solid guy after the hellscape of her ex. “Does sex turn boring when you get engaged?”

“You can only hope for our level of erotic bliss.”

“Erotic bliss?” Catie’s shoulders shook.

Veni shrugged. “I call it like I see it, babe.” Putting down her coffee, she leaned forward across the table. “Seriously though, Cat, you look good. Happy.” Her smile turned soft. “The way Danny looks at you—has it always been that way?”