Free Fearless by Tawny Weber

Jessa’s entire face was now buried in her glass.
    “You’re supposed to be supportive,” Gia said through clenched teeth.
    “We’re here, aren’t we?” Meeting Gia’s glare, Sara shrugged. “What? You thought living out the fantasy wouldn’t carry a price? Nothing is free.”
    Gia’s mind tallied the cost of a plane ticket, a hotel room—at the Bellagio, for crying out loud—hair extensions and a double dye job, a suitcase full of sex clothes, and a painful waxing session. Her credit card was still whimpering.
    But she knew that cost was negligible. She’d be paying off the emotional cost long after the financial debt was cleared.
    As suddenly as it came, her anger faded.
    “I thought payment would be more along the lines of spending the next handful of years bemoaning the fact that no lover can live up to Luke Monroe. You know, until I met Mr. Perfect and fell in love, I figured in-love sex had to trump fantasy sex on some level.”
    Three sets of eyes turned to Jessa. The blonde, her streaks platinum today, stopped sipping her margarita and stared at them all over the glass.
    “What?” Her eyes blurred for a second as she mentally replayed the conversation. Then she flashed a smile almost as bright as her diamond wedding ring. “Oh, in-love sex definitely trumps fantasy sex.”
    Gia wrapped the comfort of that around her like a cozy blanket. There. Something to hold on to while she got through whatever it was she was feeling.
    “The sex is better. The connection is so real. And the talking.” Jessa paused to give a dramatic sigh that sent the table candle’s flame bouncing. “The talking is almost as good as the sex.”
    “Nuh-uh,” Caryn protested, shaking her head.
    “Seriously?” Sara asked, leaning forward so the candlelight glinted off her glasses. “Talking?”
    “Seriously,” Gia said automatically, thinking of the long discussions she and Luke had shared between orgasms. The intensity of those talks had been greater than anything she’d experienced before. She’d felt as though she could tell him anything. Well, anything except the truth about who she was.
    “…Seriously?”
    “Gia?”
    “Uh-oh.”
    Gia froze. Everything except her eyes, which rounded in horror as they shifted from face to face.
    “I didn’t mean anything,” she protested. She had to swallow a couple of times to get past the lump in her throat. Her stomach was knotted so tight it threatened to toss up the nachos she’d just eaten. “Just that, you know, sometimes the talking is good, too. Between the sex. It cuts down on friction burns and muscle cramps. Sort of like stretching between events in a triathlon.”
    By the looks of things, nobody was buying it.
    Jessa was damn near bouncing in her seat, delight clear on her face.
    Sara looked as if she wanted to haul Gia in for a psych evaluation.
    And Caryn looked as if she wanted to cry.
    Gia reached across the table to offer a reassuring pat on her friend’s hand. Poor thing. She looked as if she’d aided and abetted a potentially miserable heartbreak and was horrified over it. Gia wanted to assure her it’d be okay. That she’d be fine. Eventually.
    Before she could spout the lie, Jessa put her bouncing into words.
    “But maybe that’s it? Maybe that’s why you freaked out and ran away and are eating nachos like you’re trying to win a trip to fat camp. Maybe you’re in love with him.”
    “I’m not in love.” Gia’s words were loud enough to garner questioning looks from the neighboring diners. She didn’t care. She had a point to make here.
    “Of course you’re not. That’d be stupid,” Sara agreed, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You don’t fall in love over sex. Lust, yes. Love, no.”
    “That’s pretty adamant,” Caryn said, sounding surprised. “You’ve never been in love, so how do you know?”
    “I have too been in love,” Sara retorted, her frown vicious behind the bright frames of her glasses.
    “No. You just think