“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “You tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you . . . because of me.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Ironic, isn’t it? I turned out to be the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Don’t say that!” I sat up, quickly moving to kneel beside him. “That’s not true,” I said.

Blane shook his head slightly, glancing away, and I knew he didn’t believe me.

I cupped his cheek in my hand, forcing him to look at me. “That’s not true,” I repeated. “I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything. If I knew then what I know now, I’d still have gotten in your car that night.” And I meant it.

Blane searched my eyes. He leaned forward and I knew what was coming, but I didn’t pull away. His hand curved behind my neck and his mouth met mine.

It was as sweet and tentative as a first kiss. His lips were soft and coaxing, the gentle brush of his tongue against the seam of my lips a silent request I couldn’t resist. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his lap until I was cradled in both arms, my body wedged between his chest and his bent knees.

He didn’t try anything more or attempt to take things further. He just . . . kissed me. Gradually, I relaxed against him, my body pliant and clinging to his.

I lost track of time and when Blane finally lifted his head, I was languid with desire. Our faces were inches apart and Blane just looked at me, his hand cupping my cheek. His eyes were a beautiful, deep green, the gray nearly invisible now.

“I love how your eyes do that,” I murmured.

His lips twitched. “Do what?” His thumb brushed my cheekbone and I could feel the beat of his heart against my ribs.

“One minute, they’re gray like an oncoming storm,” I said. “The next, they’re the vibrant green of spring grass.”

Blane didn’t reply. I didn’t think he much cared about the color of his eyes. He seemed as though he were memorizing my face, his gaze drifting from my brow to my cheek, my nose, my lips and chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip and he leaned down, pressing a tender, chaste kiss to my mouth.

“You should probably get back to work,” I said. I lifted my hand, unable to resist the temptation to push my fingers through his hair. The blond locks always fell perfectly back into place, no matter what I did. It made me smile. That was Blane. Unruffled and in control. Always.

“I don’t want to,” he said, making me smile even wider.

“I doubt your clients would approve,” I teased. “Besides, I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”

Neither of us made any move to get up. Blane wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger, his gaze focusing on it rather than me as he asked, “Have you been back to see Kade?”

I stiffened, immediately wary. “We probably shouldn’t discuss Kade,” I hedged. All the guilt and doubts I’d managed to push to the back of my mind came flooding back. I squirmed, easing out of Blane’s arms and getting to my feet.

“We can’t really not discuss him, either,” Blane said. He stood as well.

“Then yes,” I said, averting my gaze. I slipped my shoes back on and started to pick up the blanket. “I’ve been to see him. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not really, not if I’m honest,” he replied.

I folded the blanket over my arms, holding it against my chest like a shield as I faced him. “What do you want from me, Blane?”

“Fine, I’ll lay it on the line,” he said, moving closer until he stood right in front of me. “I want you, just you, all to myself. I don’t want you seeing Kade anymore. I want you to want to be with me, and only me.”

I swallowed. “You’re asking me to choose. I can’t do that. Not right now.” The thought of giving Kade up caused a physical pain inside my chest.

Blane cursed, turning to pace away, his hands resting on his hips.

“I’m not asking you to stick around,” I said. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, see me anymore.” The words sounded selfless, but that was far from how I felt. I’d really enjoyed being with Blane today. I didn’t want to lose him.

Blane gave a curt nod, which I had no idea how to interpret. He picked up the basket and took the blanket from me. I followed him in silence to the car.

The drive back to my apartment was rife with tension. Blane had an iron grip on the steering wheel, sunglasses again covering his eyes. His expression was like granite.

I fidgeted, nerves getting the best of me.

When we pulled into my parking lot, Blane put the car in park, but made no move to turn off the engine. He stared straight ahead.

“Um, thanks for lunch,” I murmured as I fumbled for the door handle. I felt absurdly like I wanted to cry. Absurd because, really, what had I thought would happen? Eventually, my feelings for Kade would drive Blane away, and vice versa. This tension with Blane shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“Wait,” Blane said, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist, catch me just as I was about to exit the car.

I stilled but didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “I’ve lost you so many times. I’m scared to death that this time, if I lose you, it’ll be forever.”

I looked around at him, his words breaking my heart. “I love you,” I said. “You know that.”

“But are you still in love with me?”

I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know.”

* * *

We were busy at The Drop that night, and with Scott gone, I didn’t stop moving until it was nearly closing. I was restocking when Tish bellied up to the bar.

“Hand me a beer, Kathleen?” she asked.

I pulled a bottle from the fridge and popped the top before handing it to her.

“You’re not going to have one?”

I shook my head. “Nah. Not tonight. I’m tired enough as it is.” Beer didn’t sound very appealing, and I wasn’t exaggerating about being tired. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed.

“How’s the love triangle going?” she asked with a wink.

I groaned. “You make it sound like it’s funny, when it’s awful. It really is.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, immediately contrite.

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I just don’t know what to do. Every day it seems I’m being pushed one step closer to choosing between them, and I don’t want to do that.”

“In all seriousness, Kathleen, that would be the kindest thing to do.”

I glanced over at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Tish shrugged. “Well, if it was me and I was in love with a guy who loved me and someone else, I’d want him to pick. It’d just be a waste of my time to try and hold on to a relationship that may never happen.”

She had a point, and yet . . . “I don’t want to lose them.”

Tish reached across the bar and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. “This isn’t you, Kathleen. You’re not selfish. I know you’re not. I think you’re just scared. A lot has happened the past few months. But you’re strong. You’re a good person. You’ll do the right thing, and you’ll be glad you did.”

Her words echoed in my head as I sat silent in the chair in Kade’s room. They must’ve given him more pain medication, because he hadn’t stirred when I’d snuck inside.

I watched him—thinking about him, me, and Blane—until I could hardly hold my head up. Tish was right. I had to be strong, had to make the right choice, even if I was so exhausted and confused right now that I had no clue what that choice should be.

It was closer to morning than midnight when I finally trudged up the stairs to my apartment. The late nights at the hospital were taking a toll. However, when I reached the top of the flight, I got an unwelcome surprise.

“What are you doing here, James?” I asked, backing away from where he stood leaning against my door. My hand scrabbled inside my purse for my gun.

James looked at me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I hear you and Kirk are over,” he said. “Again.”

I swallowed. “What does it matter?”

“You’re too good for him,” James said. “I think that’s why I hated seeing you with him.”

“You need to leave,” I said, wishing my voice weren’t shaking. James scared me, our every encounter marked by pain.

James ignored me, taking a few steps in my direction. I hurriedly backed up while pulling my gun from my purse.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned him.

He paused at the sight of the gun in my hand.

“Maybe if Kandi’d had a gun that night, she wouldn’t be dead,” he mused. “She means . . . meant . . . something to me.” He gave a sudden, bitter laugh. “And we both hated you. Our common bond.”

“Go home, James,” I said. “It’s late.”

“Kirk deserved to die for what he did to her,” James said. “But you were there, weren’t you. Protecting him.” His eyes fixed on mine and he moved closer. Alarmed, I retreated until my back was to the wall.

“You’re like a guardian angel for him and Dennon,” he continued. “That’s where you were tonight, right? With Dennon?”

He was close enough now that the gun was nearly touching his chest.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, fear crawling up my spine as I fought panic. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just go.”

He reached out and I flinched as his fingers gently grazed the side of my face and cheek.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured. “Can’t stop trying to figure you out—figure us out.”

“There is no us, James!” I was frantic to get through to him. I didn’t think I could pull the trigger, no matter how afraid I was.