“I’ve got you,” she heard a warm, husky voice say softly as if to still a panicky Jia. And letting you go isn’t going to happen soon, either.

Those strong arms shifted under her again, as if to re-secure their hold on her.

Oh no! Is she losing her hold on me? Anxiety started to spread out from a tightly wound ball of nerves.

“Jia! Jia! Are you ok?” Jia could hear Rachel asking.

Inexplicably, tears started to form in the backs of Jia’s eyes, as remembered fear reclaimed a beach-head in her subconscious, fueling the anxiety she was fighting to keep from building into a full-blown melt-down. They combined with an all-too-familiar feeling of shame.  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying in vain to stay the rush of tears; desperate to do whatever it took to stay calm, to keep the spread of anxiety in check, to remember how to stay under control.

Then, after a beat, Jia heard Rian’s soothing tones, “There, there. She’s fine. Tiler’s got her. Great catch …”

Damn Jia, get a grip! She’s right. You’re fine! Repeat after me: I’m fine … I’m fine … I’m fine.  For a moment, she almost believed she had reclaimed the beach-head back from that intractable fear, and had staved off the panic that had overwhelmed her quickly in the split second she’d realized she was falling.

Wow! Am I getting better at this? Am I getting better at …. oh…wait .. wait, am I dreaming? What are those deep blue…those eyes… did not expect to see those eyes …

Sinful dark-blue-turned-almost-violet latched onto her panicky sky-blue. Breaths hitched. Unexpected feelings inside made her tummy do somersaults, forward rolls, back flips, and rumble-tumbles.   Tiler, you …jeez … you sexy stud.

Those sinful eyes widened in recognition when they caught a familiar feminine attraction to her from Jia’s sky blues.  Damn, those eyes!  And those naturally pink, bee-stung sexy, sexy, kissable lips. Noooo, unhnnhnn, they’re parting, and she’s biting her lower lip.   And does she know that she’s sighing? Jia … Jia … you are …

“What is this crazy, crazy feeling?” Jia murmured to herself. Or so she thought.

Crazy? Crazy?

I’m the crazy one, Jia because I’m already imagining things, things like: “In a couple nights, if not sooner, I’ll be taking you in my arms. I’ll pull you close to me just like this, and kiss your hair, your pale, smooth forehead, your soft cheeks, your eyelids as your eyes flutter close, your upturned nose, and then shift to your ears, the perfectly-shaped ones I was fixated on earlier, nibble your earlobes a while, goose your neck with butterfly kisses, hear you moan. Did you daub perfume there? Oh, and will you taste as goo-o-o-o-d as you smell, baby?  I’ll nuzzle your neck, because I can’t help it, and then I’ll go ‘round to the back of your neck, and feel you shiver.   I’ll go around to the front again, lips skimming over your clavicle, left one, and then the right.”