I swallowed. “It’s the only solution. I’m not going to pick one of you over the other.”

“So what are we then?” His fingers traced the outline of my ribs while my pulse beat a rapid staccato in my chest. My breath was much too fast and too shallow. “Friends with benefits?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

We fell asleep like that, the warmth of his palm pressed against my side, his thumb lightly brushing the tender skin under my breast.

When I woke up, the sun had just peeked over the horizon. Kade was still sound asleep, no doubt the timed pain medication had taken hold at some point, sending him into a deep slumber. Reaching up, I brushed a lock of inky-black hair from his forehead before easing out of the bed.

I put on my shoes and used the bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face to wake up. While I’d been relieved to be with Kade last night, I hadn’t slept well. Each move or noise he made had caused me to come awake, my subconscious still steeped in anxiety about him.

To my chagrin, I ran into Blane in the hallway. He looked surprised to see me.

“Did you come by this morning or last night?” he asked.

I wondered what the correct answer would be, as his tone had definitely changed when he’d said “last night.” I decided to be honest.

“I came by after work,” I said.

Blane gave a brief nod, then took a sip of the coffee he held. “That was kind of you to keep him company.”

There hadn’t been anything “kind” for the reasons I’d had. I’d needed to see him, especially after what I’d said to him when he’d woken up. Since the daytime would mean running into Mona, Gerard, and Blane, the nighttime was preferable.

“I, um, I gotta go,” I said, the awkwardness getting to me.

“Sure,” Blane said easily. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Okay, I was positive I heard a slight note of bitterness in that last part, but he was already past me and stepping into Kade’s room.

I headed home, where I showered and did my laundry. I had to go to work earlier than usual because I was filling in for Scott this week. He was out of town and had asked if I’d cover his shifts. Since he’d done the same for me on more than one occasion, I didn’t mind saying yes, but that meant I’d be spending the bulk of my days and evenings at The Drop for the next several days.

I went by the hospital again that night after work, crawling into bed with Kade without being asked. The pain medication was easing up so he was awake, and we talked.

We didn’t talk about Blane, or the future, or being friends. We talked about ourselves and our past, me more so than Kade, though he did tell me a couple of things from his childhood, like how he’d gotten the scars on his back and the one on his chest. Tears had dripped from my face onto his chest as he talked, his voice quiet in the darkened room. My imagination painted too vivid a picture of a child version of Kade, and the pain he’d endured made my heart hurt.

He told me about the first time he’d killed a man, and why. I told him the story of the night my dad died. He told me of the morning his mother didn’t wake up. I spoke of how hard it had been to sell my parents’ house and move away from home. He finally told me the story of the dragon tattoo on his arm, and I confessed how I’d almost gotten my navel pierced on a friend’s dare my senior year of high school, but had chickened out. Kade had chuckled at that.

Eventually, we fell silent, the rise and fall of his chest under my cheek lulling me to sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

The aroma of fresh coffee greeted me when next I opened my eyes. I sat up from where I’d been slumped, wincing as my neck and back gave sharp protests. I automatically glanced next to me, but Kade was gone.

“They took him for another X-ray.”

I jerked around to see Blane leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked put together, his hair perfect, his jaw freshly shaven, clothes clean and unrumpled. I self-consciously combed my fingers through my hair, knowing I had to look a mess.

“Here,” Blane said, handing me another cup.

“Thanks,” I said. I took a small sip of the steaming brew, grateful Blane must have stopped at a coffee shop on the way rather than getting the hospital’s version. I didn’t think too hard about how he’d obviously known I’d be at the hospital.

I disappeared into the bathroom, trying to make myself look like I hadn’t spent the night scrunched next to Kade in a hospital bed. I didn’t think I was successful. Without makeup, I looked paler than usual and the circles under my eyes added ten years to my age. My stomach was complaining, too, though I didn’t really feel like eating.

When I came back out, Blane was still there and Kade still wasn’t.

“I, ah, guess I’ll head home,” I said, feeling incredibly awkward. Blane and I hadn’t really talked since he’d kissed me in my kitchen, and I was unsure how to behave around him. I couldn’t read if he was angry with me, had changed his mind about us being friends, or was just taking all this weirdness in stride.

Blane nodded. “I’ll let him know.”

I turned and left without another word.

The days seem to speed by, each one mostly like the one before, until they blended together in my exhausted brain. I spent what time I could at the hospital, going by after I got off work. And I had to work almost every night, covering my shifts as well as Scott’s. I’d crawl into bed with Kade and we’d talk for a while. I’d tell him about my day while he played with my hair. In the morning, I’d leave, trying to be gone before Blane got there without being obvious about it. I didn’t want to run into him again, couldn’t handle his seeming indifference and the awkwardness between us.

My schedule played havoc with my sleep patterns, and it seemed that no matter what I did, I was always tired. When I came home from the hospital in the mornings, I showered, ran errands, and did chores. Most days I had to be at work by four, so it was like each one passed in the blink of an eye. Eating was an afterthought. Guilt tarnished the happiness I felt about Kade and me growing closer, and the only respite I found was in the dark of night when I was in his arms. When I could pretend nothing outside of that room existed.

Kade was asleep this morning as I slid from the bed. I slipped quietly out the door and into the hallway, turned, and nearly ran right into someone.

“I’m sor—” I looked up into Blane’s eyes and my words died mid-apology.

“Morning, Kat,” he said, seeming completely unsurprised to find me there. He handed me one of the two cups of coffee he held. “You look a little tired.”

Self-consciously, I tried to smooth my hair. My ponytail had loosened during the night and I knew from the bathroom mirror that my makeup was long gone. I’d just climbed out of bed and I looked it. Whereas Blane was again impeccably dressed in full suit and tie, the knotted silk perfect at his throat against the crisp white linen of his shirt. His jaw was smooth and freshly shaved, and his dark blond hair didn’t have a strand out of place. I could smell the scent of his cologne, which made me want to lean closer for a better whiff. A bad idea.

“Um, yeah,” I said nervously. “Hospitals aren’t exactly conducive to sleep.” I took a quick gulp of the coffee, immediately regretting it when the hot liquid scalded my tongue. Shit, that hurt.

“How’s he doing?”

“Good,” I said. “He seemed good.”

“They said he’s healing really well,” Blane said.

“I’m glad,” I replied. This was different, Blane talking to me again. He didn’t seem angry that I was spending so much time with Kade. I was glad. I missed Blane, but could do nothing but take my cue from him on our relationship status.

“Do you have to work tonight?” he asked, leaning his shoulder against the wall. Somehow he’d moved closer to me.

I thought for a minute, then shook my head. “I’m covering for Scott this week so I’m working through the weekend, but I’m off tonight.” I’d planned on sleeping.

“Why are you covering for Scott?”

“He’s out of town and he asked,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t mind.” And I needed the money.

“Of course you don’t,” Blane muttered with a sigh, glancing away.

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His gaze returned to me. “It means you’ve been through a lot. You look like you can barely stand because you’re so exhausted, and you must’ve lost ten pounds that you couldn’t afford to lose the past couple of weeks. You need rest, not to be covering Scott’s shifts.”

I was sorry I’d asked.

“Go home and take a nap,” Blane said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll be by later and take you to dinner.”

Dinner? That sounded alarmingly like a date.

“I can’t . . . we shouldn’t . . .” I stammered.

Blane stepped even closer, halting my words and forcing me to tip my head back to see his eyes. The warm scent of him wrapped around me like a blanket. “If you’re spending your nights with Kade, I should at least get dinner, don’t you think?” The low rasp of his voice made my pulse jump.

I didn’t know what to say. I swallowed hard and nodded.

Blane smiled. “Good. Then I’ll see you tonight.” He brushed a kiss to my forehead, then moved past me into Kade’s room. The door closed behind him, leaving me alone in the hallway.

* * *

Mindful of Blane’s comments about my appearance, I made a concerted effort to buy some groceries, eat lunch, and take a nap. It pricked my vanity, the things he’d said, so I took great care as I dressed for dinner.

“It’s not a date,” I muttered to myself as I flung hanger after hanger of clothes onto my bed, discarding each outfit in turn. And yet I was as nervous as I’d been that first night when Blane had given me a lift and walked me to my door.

Finally, I settled on a deep navy dress with cap sleeves and a V-neck. The skirt was why I’d bought the dress. It ended right above my knees, but from mid-thigh down, it was made of tulle with two thin strips of fabric that wrapped around the skirt. The result was that it was kind of see-through, because of the tulle, but not tacky, because of the fabric.

The color brought out my eyes and contrasted nicely with my long hair, which I curled and left loose. As I stood in my bedroom, surveying the results in the mirror, I caught sight of my jewelry box.

I opened it, eyeing for several long moments the sapphire pendant and earrings Blane had given me. They would go much better with the dress than the gold locket I was wearing.

Hesitantly, I removed the locket, setting it carefully aside before I added the sapphire jewelry. I felt odd, as though somehow I was betraying Kade.

The doorbell rang and I shook off the feeling, slipping on a pair of navy heels before going to answer the door.

It was déjà vu, opening the door to see Blane filling the space. His suit looked as fresh and polished as it had hours earlier. Light glinted briefly off one cuff link as he pushed his fingers through his hair and smiled wide enough to show the dimple in his cheek. The white of his teeth gleamed in the dusky light.

“You look . . .” He shook his head, as though any adjective he might use was inadequate. His voice trailed away as his gaze swept me from head to toe and back, lingering briefly on the pendant nestled in my cleavage. Appreciation and lust gleamed in his eyes, which, I decided, was compliment enough.

“These are for you,” he said, handing me a bouquet of red roses.

Surprised, I automatically took them. It had been a long time since Blane had brought me flowers. Their heady fragrance was divine and I buried my nose in the velvety depths.

“Thank you,” I said, stepping back to let him in. I went to the kitchen and reached for the cabinet above the stove for a vase.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Blane offered, and I had to suck in a breath.

He was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the brush of his body against mine as he stretched up to retrieve the vase. My hormones kicked into high gear and I bit my lip hard. Whatever problems Blane and I had, they’d never been in the bedroom, and my body was forcefully reminding me of that fact.

Blane took his time getting the vase down, his hips pressing lightly into my backside as he moved, then he gently set the vase on the counter and took a step back. I couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if I was imagining things.