2: Believe Mr. Right is out there.
3: Take inventory of past mistakes. (See step #1.)
4: Make a list of qualities you want in a man. (Avoid charming baseball players/reason you made these rules in the first place)
5: Take charge of your own life.
6: Learn to love yourself.
7: Sort the hookup guys from the relationship guys. (Avoid a painful brushoff after an amazing night together.)
8: Never, ever settle. (Even if the chemistry is off-the-charts.)
9: Don’t believe you can change a guy. (Once a commitment-phobe, always a commitment-phobe)
10: Communicate your needs.
11: Open your heart & love fully. (Still working on this one…)
12: Don’t ever, ever stray from the steps.
“Savannah? Savannah Gamble?” a different, deeper voice said from behind me. Scooping up my coffee, I spun around.
And squeezed my cup so hard the lid popped off. Scalding liquid sloshed over my hand and onto the floor, barely missing my shoes. Hot, hot, hot.
Linc grabbed napkins and started patting my fingers, at which point I became fairly certain he wasn’t, in fact, a mirage or figment of my imagination. I set my coffee cup and bag aside so I could help clean myself up.
Only I got caught up staring into familiar blue eyes instead. Hot.
That was the problem with Lincoln Wells. Between the light brown hair he usually kept on the buzzed too short side and those striking blue eyes, he was the kind of hot that’d scrambled my brain for an entire year in college.
“Sorry,” he said, wadding the napkins into a ball and making a perfect toss into the nearby trash can. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
One corner of his mouth curved up—oh the hours I’d spent daydreaming about that sexy crooked smile—and then he pulled me in for a hug. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
On autopilot—or maybe force of habit—I hugged him back. Like in college, he was all lean muscle, although he’d filled out a bit, broader in the shoulders and chest. My heart skipped a few beats, and I told myself to stop those rising tendrils of attraction right in their tracks. No thinking about how solid or warm he was, or how long it’d been since I’d been this close to a guy in general, much less a good-looking one.
I pulled back and grabbed my coffee and muffin so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach for him again. “Wow, it’s been a long time. Are you in town for a visit or—”
“Ivy didn’t tell you? I moved back. Last weekend, actually.”
Admittedly she and I had been missing each other lately, playing phone tag due to crazy schedules, but news like this? It deserved a meet-up involving alcohol at the very least.
Which is probably why she’s been so persistent in trying to get me to go to Azure. But if he moved back to town last week… Ivy had probably put off telling me, afraid of how I’d react.
Linc ran his gaze down me, and the only reason I straightened, patted my bun, and wished I’d showered and worn something besides yoga pants was because I wanted him to see what he’d missed out on. Not because I wanted to impress him or anything. I didn’t want him to look at me as more than a friendly acquaintance. The cool girl he used to hang with in college.
Who he’d had drunken sex with one night.
Cindi Madsen is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.
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