“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.

“Fate brought us together, keeps bringing us together,” he insisted. “If you think I’m wrong, then shoot me.”

My hand tightened on the gun’s grip, the weapon trembling slightly. James looked completely unafraid, his gaze weirdly serene as he stared at me. After a moment, he spoke again.

“You can’t do it,” he said softly. “You can’t kill me, because that’s not who you are. You’re not a killer, like Kirk and Dennon. You’re an angel.”

Before I could say anything to that, he leaned forward and kissed me, a quick hard press of his lips against mine, then he was gone, heading down the stairs. A moment later, I heard a car start and pull out of the lot.

I was shaking like a leaf in the wind and could barely put my gun back into my purse. It took way too long to unlock my door and when I was finally inside, I hurriedly relocked it, then leaned against it and just breathed. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, James’s unexpected reappearance in my life felt like the last straw for my tenuous composure. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat but I swallowed it down.

Stripping to my underwear, I was too tired to do more than pull on a white tank, leaving my work uniform where it lay on the floor. I fell into bed and slept like the dead.

I woke to the sound of someone knocking on my door. Blearily, I rubbed my eyes, glancing at the clock as I stumbled out of bed. I groaned. It was just after seven-thirty. I hadn’t slept for even four hours.

Cranky now, and only half awake, I still remembered my late-night visitor and checked the peephole before opening the door, but it was Blane standing there.

“Um, I . . . I . . . wasn’t expecting . . . you,” I stammered, blinking in the morning sunshine. I belatedly remembered how I must look, with tangled hair and last night’s makeup. Of course, Blane was in his customary suit and tie, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Brought you some coffee,” he said after an awkward moment, handing me a cup.

“Um, okay, thanks,” I said, taking it from him. I stepped back and he followed me into my apartment.

The coffee smelled heavenly, though my stomach lurched a little, reminding me that not enough sleep wasn’t good for the digestive system. I took a cautious sip and let out a sigh. I might forgive Blane for waking me up at this ungodly hour since he’d brought really good, really hot coffee.

I turned around to thank him, but the words stuck in my throat. He’d taken off his sunglasses and his gaze was raking me from head to foot with a familiar glint in his eyes. I abruptly realized I wasn’t really dressed for company. The white tank and bikini underwear left little to the imagination, and though Blane had seen it all before, it wasn’t exactly the look I was going for right then.

“Give me a minute,” I said, setting down the coffee. “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and scrubbing my face. A brush through my hair did wonders and I pulled on a pair of knit shorts. I was back out in the living room in mere minutes.

“Sorry about that,” I said. Blane was sitting on the couch, so I picked up my coffee and sat in the chair across from him.

“It’s fine. Sorry to wake you.”

I shrugged. “I worked last night.” And had spent a few hours sitting at Kade’s bedside, but chose not to mention that. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about James, but my problems weren’t Blane’s anymore, and James had always been my problem. I kept my mouth shut.

“I want to apologize,” Blane said. “For pushing you yesterday. I said I wouldn’t, and I did.”

“You had every right,” I replied.

“No, I didn’t. You gave me your terms and I didn’t abide by them.”

I winced. When he said it like that, I did sound like a selfish bitch. Tish’s words flashed through my mind and I took a deep breath.

“I can’t do this, Blane,” I blurted. “I can’t . . . be with you one minute, and with Kade the next. It’s wrong, and it’s not fair to either of you.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

I swallowed, my voice quiet as I confessed. “You know I went to see Kade the other night, in the hospital, after you left.”

Blane’s face was carefully impassive. “Yes. I never said you couldn’t.”

God, I really didn’t want to go into detail. I set down my coffee, noticing that my hand was shaking. I clenched my hands together in my lap.

“We kissed, Blane,” I said. “You and me. Then I saw Kade, and . . . I kissed him, too.” Surely that was enough. I could feel my face burning, but didn’t give in to the temptation to look away and not meet his eyes. “I can’t do that. I can’t . . . be that person. I hate it. And I can’t trust myself not to be.”

The Adam’s apple in Blane’s throat moved as he swallowed. “So you’re choosing Kade after all.”

“No, I’m not. You were right, Blane. I can’t have what I want with Kade. But you and me, we can’t go back.” It was the hardest sentence I’d ever had to say and my heart hurt just forcing the words out. “I can’t . . . make myself feel about you the way I once did. And I’m sorry.” Tears started halfway through, but I kept talking even as my voice grew quieter, the syllables harder to say past the lump in my throat. “I should want to, I know that. You’re wonderful and I love you, I really do—”

“But you’re not in love with me anymore,” Blane cut in.

I shook my head. “And I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered. I felt my face crumple and gave in to the tears, covering my face with my hands so Blane wouldn’t see. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. I’d known this was coming, had known the three of us wasn’t going to work out, but a tiny part of me had hoped I’d have longer with them. With Blane.

“Shhh, don’t cry.” Blane was suddenly crouched down in front of me, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me out of the chair and into his lap. He tucked my head underneath his chin.

But it seemed I couldn’t stop. I no longer felt what had been inside of me for Blane, and being in love with Kade was pointless. Kade’s words had proved prophetic. My heart was broken for what Blane and I had lost, and loving Kade was as futile as chasing a rainbow.

Losing them both was going to be as devastating as I’d imagined.

“D-do you h-hate me now?” I hiccupped through my tears.

“Of course not,” he soothed.

“You sh-should,” I said. “I’ve been awful . . . selfish. And I’m g-going to m-miss you.”

The tears started again, dampening his neck, and I clutched the lapels of his jacket. I was one step closer to being alone again.

“I’m not leaving you,” Blane said softly. “I’ll still be around, okay?”

I wished I could believe that.

It seemed wrong for Blane to be comforting me at this point, so I pulled myself together and made the tears stop.

Blane was lightly stroking my hair, both of his arms around me as I rested against his chest. Neither of us spoke. I knew this would be the last time he’d hold me like this, ever, and I wasn’t ready for him to stop.