He stood close, close enough for me to breathe in the scent of his cologne. Close enough that if I made the slightest move toward him, I knew he’d have his arms around me in the blink of an eye. I stayed very still, though the temptation to inch closer was strong. I remembered the kiss from earlier. I was confused and uncertain. What did he want from me? Hadn’t I already given him everything? In spite of that, I was worried about him. Would I ever learn self-preservation when it came to Blane?

“Are you going to be okay tonight?” I asked.

Blane gave a bitter huff of laughter.

I stiffened. “What’s so funny?”

“Even after everything I’ve done, how I’ve treated you, you’re still worried about me,” he said.

I frowned. “And that’s funny?”

Blane shook his head, his expression turning grave. “Not a bit. It’s tragic. For me. For you. For what we had. I knew you… know you… and I let myself believe…” He glanced away for a moment, then back. Our eyes met.

“I’ve wasted so much time,” he said baldly, “made so many mistakes. I’m damn lucky you’re even here at all, that you still care. But then again, that’s the kind of person you are.”

I was also the kind of person who had slept with his brother less than twenty-four hours ago and was desperately trying to pretend it hadn’t happened. I decided not to mention that, but my silence didn’t stop the guilt from rising like nausea in my stomach.

“I’m not a saint, Blane,” I said, looking at the floor because my guilt made it impossible for me to look him in the eye any longer. “I just care about you—that’s all. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

Reaching out, he fingers brushed my uninjured check and I reluctantly lifted my eyes. “You were always too good for me, Kat,” he said. “It just took me too long to see it.” There was the lightest touch of his thumb to my lips, then he was heading back downstairs.

But I wasn’t too good for him. I was a horrible person keeping a painful secret.

My lips seemed to tingle from his touch and I just stood there, rooted to the spot, and berated myself for being too weak. Too weak with Kade, and too weak with Blane.

I took a shower and found the white nightgown I always wore when I stayed. My suitcase was sitting on my bed when I came out of the bathroom. I loved Gerard. I dug through it for my brush, pausing when I came across Kade’s shirt, the one he’d ripped off me last night. I pulled it out. Almost all the buttons were missing, torn off by Kade. I brought it to my nose and inhaled. Kade’s scent lingered on the fabric.

This was the first chance I’d had to be alone since realizing Kade remembered nothing about last night. Now I allowed myself the full range of my emotions. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking, why I’d done what I’d done. Had I thought that just because Kade had said he loved me, that made all the difference? That my life would take a different turn, or that Blane would ever allow it? If so, I’d been very much mistaken, not to mention stupid. And it didn’t really matter what I’d thought last night—all of it was gone, fizzled like morning mist in the unrelenting Nevada sunshine.

A shudder went through me when I imagined what Blane would do if he ever found out.

I refused to cry. It was my own fault for letting it happen. Regret played second fiddle only to the guilt, and on top of that was an overwhelming and unexpected sadness.

And I could never tell Kade. How would I even begin that conversation?

I know you don’t remember any of it, but we made love last night, and it was amazing. Wonderful. A night I’ll never forget. You said you loved me.

I wondered when Kade had last told a woman he loved her.

I should get rid of the shirt, I knew—it was evidence of a night best forgotten. Instead, I found myself carefully folding it, then putting it in my suitcase before setting the whole thing in the back of the closet and crawling into bed. I was lucky Kade didn’t remember anything, I told myself. Seeing Blane and Kade still at such odds because of me was physically painful. Neither of them needed to know about my selfishness last night.

I’d stay here for a few days, do what I could to help Blane through this, then go home. Kade would leave, Blane would go back to campaigning, and I’d… be alone.

The pillow under my cheek grew wet, my self-pity all the worse in light of what had happened to Kandi. A good person? I felt like the good had been rubbed out by all the bad now inside me.

* * *

I didn’t go downstairs the next morning until I had on my full armor: makeup, hair washed and blow-dried, clothes. I’d found a little white denim skirt in the closet and a navy-and-white polka-dot blouse with little straps, both in my size. When Blane and I had dated, he’d been adamant about buying clothes for me to keep at his house, hiring the same man who did his suits to stock my closet. I was glad of it now, as the clothes I’d bought in Vegas were woefully inappropriate for here.

The skirt was maybe a bit too big, given that I’d lost some weight, but I also found a belt to cinch it with. The shirt was made of a sheer, lightweight material, so I wore a thin cami underneath. A pair of strappy white, wedge-heeled sandals fit me perfectly.

My bruises looked better. The ones on my ribs were still dark, but the one on my cheek could be covered with enough makeup and my curtain of hair to hide it.

I didn’t know who I’d find in the kitchen. It was Thursday and Blane should have already been at work, but I had a feeling he’d be taking a few days off to deal with Kandi’s murder and funeral. I heard voices as I approached and when I stepped into the sunny, cheerful room, I saw that Mona and Kade were the sole occupants. The aroma of coffee and bacon permeated the air and I sniffed appreciatively.

“Good morning,” Mona said with a smile. “Hungry?”

My stomach growled. “Starving,” I said.

“Well, sit down. I’ll get you some breakfast. Blane left for work earlier but said he’d be back after lunch.”

While she busied herself at the stove, I poured myself a cup of coffee, catching Kade staring at my legs as I walked over to the table where he sat. His gaze moved to meet mine, but I had a hard time looking him in the eye. I gazed at my coffee instead.

He was wearing jeans, boots, and a T-shirt. His only concession to the heat outside seemed to be that the shirt was short-sleeved, which I could appreciate. Seeing Kade’s arms on display was never a bad thing, and I eyed them covertly from under my lashes.

“Good morning, princess,” he said, giving me a half smile. “Sleep well?”

My dreams had started with a replay of the night in Vegas, which wasn’t bad at all, but ended with Blane and Kade beating each other to a pulp, which was. I’d shouted at them and cried. Gee, I wondered if I could get someone to interpret that one for me.

I forced a fake smile. “Like a baby,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “You are such a shitty liar.”

Mona set a plate of food in front of me, distracting me immediately. I loved breakfast food and didn’t give another thought to Kade’s comment as I dug in to the eggs, bacon, and toast. After a few minutes, I glanced over at Kade, who was sipping his coffee and watching me.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked around a mouthful of food.

“Already did.”

“Mona, this is amazing,” I said to her. “Thank you so much.” It was such a treat to have someone cook for me. It never got old, and since my mom had died, I’d never again taken it for granted.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she said with a soft smile, giving me a little hug around my shoulders before leaving the room.

My nerves returned with a vengeance without Mona nearby as a buffer, and I didn’t try to talk to Kade anymore while I ate.

“I have class this morning,” I said after I’d cleaned my plate, getting up to put it in the dishwasher. “Can I borrow your car? Or can you drive me to mine?” A reprieve from both Blane and Kade would significantly decrease my stress level.

“I’ll take you to class,” Kade said.

I frowned as I turned back to him. “What? Why?”

“Blane can’t say for certain if the Gage situation is resolved,” he replied, his tone conveying exactly how he felt about that. “He delivered a warning, but neither of us is willing to risk it.”

“I don’t want a bodyguard,” I objected.

“Too bad.”

I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “So you’re just going to tag along with my every move?” I didn’t know if I could handle that. Not now. Not with the weight of my secret pressing so heavily against my chest that it took effort to just draw breath.

“That’s the plan.”

“I don’t like that plan,” I retorted, echoing his words in Vegas.

He smirked appreciatively. “Consider me your private tutor,” he said.

I thought of the other girls in my class and how quickly they’d decide they needed “tutoring” once they got an eyeful of Kade.

Kade found a place to park on campus, then walked me to class. I caught more than one pretty passerby taking a second look at Kade and wondered if he was checking them out, too. Not that I cared if he were.

Right.

“You can’t bring your guns in here,” I said in an undertone as we stepped inside the air-conditioned building. A sign was plastered to the door about no firearms allowed.

Kade raised his hands. “I don’t see a gun. Do you see a gun?”

His innocent act didn’t fool me for a second, but he just gave me his telltale smirk and followed me to class.

The summer session was nearly over, so the class wasn’t as full as it would have been during a fall or spring term. Kade and I found seats in the back of the small auditorium. Since I’d missed class on Tuesday and the final was next week, I asked a student nearby if I could copy her notes. She and I had spoken a few times before and she readily agreed. I began writing while waiting for the class to begin. Kade slouched in the seat next to me, his long legs splayed in front of him and his sunglasses hooked on his shirt.