Or so it had seemed, she reasoned as she brushed her teeth, erasing the taste of the night.

After ten years of longing, after a whole damn decade of her heart being a goddamn one-way mirror, she thought there were iron gates around it, and it would take moving heaven and earth to knock them down. It hadn’t. It had taken one man less than thirty nights.

But once more, she was back where she’d always been. Loving too much. Feeling too much. The only one of them who felt this way. Putting herself out there to be met with a black hole in return.

She spat out the toothpaste and filled a glass of water, rinsing her mouth.

Soon, her rational side took hold, stuffing her emotional self back into the trunk where that side belonged.

This was all her fault. Jack had never pretended this was for love. He’d laid the cards on the table that night at Gia’s. She’d agreed. Willingly. She hadn’t wanted to risk her heart either. She didn’t have to keep risking it, she reminded herself. Hell, if she’d managed to wash away Clay and the feelings she’d had for him, she could damn well do the same with Jack. All she had to do was suck it down. To swallow up that annoying emotion of love, and replace it properly with desire.

She was a smart woman. She knew how to manage emotions. She and Jack were lovers for thirty nights. They were nothing more. She wasn’t going to ruin this trip, or this time, or her speech by letting emotions cloud her. She was going to finish out this no-strings-attached affair the way it had started—physically. She’d gotten into this to get over Clay, and that had happened. She no longer pined for her friend. She no longer was in love with him. That was all that mattered. She’d taken her medicine; she’d gotten the cure. She didn’t need to push forward into something more. She’d keep this affair precisely where it belonged—as an affair.

She was going to make damn sure no one could ever hurt her again.

Not Clay. Not Jack. Not anyone.

She turned on the faucet again, splashed some water on her face, and imagined washing away those words from last night, returning to what she and Jack were. They were a temporary fix to heal each other’s hearts. Nothing more.

Besides, she had her work. She was due on stage later today for her keynote. She could immerse herself in what she loved deeply and always. Her work was the great love of her life, and no one could ever take that away from her.

21

Turn Around

A fleet of nerves settled down in her belly as she waited in the wings. Julien, the psychologist and editor of the journal that was hosting the event, was on stage introducing her. Taking a few deep breaths, and checking to make sure her shirt was still tucked into her skirt—it was—and that her hair was holding up in its twist—not a strand was out of place—she told those butterflies in her stomach to get the hell out of town.