“If I’d known our last kiss was going to be our last kiss,” he murmured thoughtfully, “I’d have made it better.”

I sucked in a breath as the pain of those words sank in, and pulled back. He looked down and our eyes met. I caught a glint of wetness on Blane’s lashes, and his eyes seemed unusually bright. Then he blinked and I thought I must have imagined it.

“I, um, I’d better go,” he said.

I took the hint and clambered off his lap. He got to his feet and absently smoothed his jacket and tie before adjusting his cuff links. It was as though I was watching him don his politician’s armor right in front of me, and it made me unbearably sad.

He slid his sunglasses back on and ran his fingers through his hair. I followed him to the door, not knowing what to say or do. It seemed he didn’t, either, because although he cleared his throat, he didn’t speak.

The sunlight was glaring as I stood in the doorway. Blane gave me a hug and his lips brushed my hair.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was saying those words to me, or himself.

He jogged down the stairs to his car and I hurried forward to watch him over the railing, like I’d done so many times before. He glanced up and gave me a smile before disappearing inside his car, and pain twisted like a knife inside me.

It was that politician’s smile, the one that never reached his eyes. I used to be the one who he didn’t have to hide his emotions from, didn’t have to use that smile to conceal what was going on inside his head.

Not anymore.

Tears clogged my throat again and I swiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Endings were hard, even more so when they faded away rather than exploding into dust.

I watched Blane drive off and it felt as if a hole had been ripped in my chest. The only thing harder than acknowledging to myself that it was over—really over—between us had been telling him.

My stomach heaved and I only just made it to the bathroom in time.

Kade had been blowing up my phone all evening. I hadn’t had a chance to even glance at my phone, so when I finally listened to the voice mails, they went like this:

I want to see you. If you’re not answering, that must mean you’ve been kidnapped by another psycho, because I’m sure you wouldn’t just ignore my call.

Twenty minutes later.

Of course, if you are ignoring my call, then you’re going to miss me telling you this great story about how this smokin’-hot girl showed up in my room the other night. I’ve been thinking about her all day.

Thirty minutes later.

That girl, she left too quick. I think she’s mad at me. Or maybe sad. Yeah, she looked sad when she left. I’m not sure why.

Forty minutes later.

I think we had a fight, maybe. I’m not a hundred percent sure. I’m afraid that—a pause, and then a huff of humorless laughter—I’m afraid. There’s two words I haven’t strung together in a long fucking time, princess.

Twenty minutes later.

I hope she knows that I love her. A pause.Yeah, just that. I love her and . . . I don’t want to lose her.

That had been the last message two hours ago. I’d cried when I listened.

I could see through the window that Kade was stretched out in bed and part of me hoped he was sleeping. I’d gain a reprieve. But he wasn’t, and the moment I stepped through the door, his head turned and his piercing blue gaze met mine.

Time seemed to stop as I froze, right inside the doorway. I didn’t even breathe as I crossed over to him. When I was near enough, he grabbed my arm and hauled me closer. Without another word, his hand curved around the back of my neck and he pulled me in to kiss me.

It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t elegant. It was the kind of kiss you give someone you’d thought you might never kiss again.

Our lips and tongues entwined as his hands moved to gently hold my head, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. I buried my fingers in his hair, the taste and feel of him more precious than my next breath.

When we finally parted, we were both breathing hard. I rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes and concentrating on the touch of his hands, the sound of his breathing, the warm feel of his skin against mine.

“I love you,” he said, his voice a low rasp.

Pulling back slightly so I could look into his eyes, I said, “And I love you, Kade Dennon.” I hadn’t said those words since he’d first regained consciousness, and it was almost a relief to be able to say them once more.

Then he was kissing me again until my breath was gone. He pressed light kisses to my cheeks, my closed eyes, my forehead before returning to my mouth.

“I thought you might not come back,” he breathed against my lips.

“I can’t seem to stay away.” Which was the absolute truth. Kade exerted a pull on me that I couldn’t resist.

Our eyes met. I could get lost in the clear blue depths of his gaze.

Kade tugged on my hand and I climbed up next to him. His arms curved around me, tucking me in close to his side.

“We can’t go on like this,” I said after a while. “Me. You. Blane. It needs an ending.”

His fingers had been combing through my hair. Now they stopped.

“What kind of an ending did you have in mind?”

“The only one there can be,” I said quietly. “I need to go my own way, and you two go yours.”

Kade’s grip on me tightened. “That’s bullshit.”

I shifted so I could see his face. “Then what, Kade?” I asked, exasperated.

“What do you mean?”

“You told me a month ago that we couldn’t be together,” I reminded him. “That it was too dangerous for me to be with you. Have you changed your mind?”

Kade studied me, his brow furrowed. His hand brushed my cheek. “I’m insane to want to keep you,” he murmured, “but I can’t let you go.”

And it seemed that’s the only answer I was going to get, because then he started kissing me and I didn’t have the heart to push him away, not when our time was limited.

The aroma of fresh coffee greeted me when next I opened my eyes. I sat up from where I’d been slumped in the hospital bed, wincing as my neck and back gave sharp protests. I automatically glanced next to me, then froze when I saw the space was empty.

“They took him for some more tests.”

I jerked around to see Blane leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee. Shit. I hadn’t left in time to avoid him, and after our conversation yesterday, I was all about avoiding. He looked put together and perfect, his slate-gray suit one of my favorites. The scent of his cologne wafted toward me, reminding me that I still smelled like stale booze. Nice.

I disappeared into the bathroom, splashing some water on my face and trying to make myself look like I hadn’t spent the night again squished next to Kade. I didn’t think I was successful.

I had no idea what to say to Blane when I came out, though I felt like I should say something.

“Do you have court today?” I asked, desperately searching for small talk.

Blane’s steely gray gaze slid my way. “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, taking another sip of coffee and glancing back out the window.

Okay, well, it wasn’t like I couldn’t read that “fuck off” message.

The tension was like thick cotton pressing on my lungs. I wanted to say something else, but didn’t know what could possibly break through the wall between us. Blane was shutting me out, his face absolutely blank as he sipped his coffee. He glanced at the clock on the wall and then out the window, ignoring me completely.

But there was nothing I could say to or ask of him. He owed me nothing. Now I was merely one among the many exes that littered his history.

I’d known it would be bad, despite what he’d said to the contrary. I just hadn’t realized how bad, or how much it would hurt.