“Need to have you near me,” he said. “Know you’re okay.”
Yeah, I knew the feeling.
I started to button my shirt again, but his hands stilled mine. “Leave it.”
Probably not a good idea. But his hand was warm and reassuring against my skin, and his body, stretched alongside mine, made me feel safe. I smiled and closed my eyes.
“I promised you fireworks,” Kade whispered in my ear.
“Hmmm?” I said drowsily. I was really relaxed, though I could tell from the brightness against my eyelids that it was morning.
“I promised you fireworks and I didn’t deliver,” he said.
I patted his arm still wrapped around me. “S’okay. Next year.”
“I can’t promise you next week, much less next year,” he murmured. The warm heat of his mouth brushed my neck, my shoulder.
“Don’t say that,” I said automatically.
He paused. “Tell me what happened in Vegas.”
My eyes flew open and I stiffened, coming fully awake now. “You know what happened in Vegas,” I said, pretending ignorance.
“I mean, why did I find buttons from my shirt you wore on the floor of my room?”
My pulse shot into overdrive. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.
Kade’s hand disappeared for a moment. I heard the rustle of cloth. Then he was placing something in my palm.
“I’ve carried this with me since Vegas,” he said, “trying to remember.”
He’d given me a button. I realized that must be what I’d seen him looking at several times since we’d gotten back. I squeezed my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.
“Please tell me. It’s driving me insane,” he rasped. “I have these scenarios in my head, and I’m terrified that I hurt you, or forced you—”
Oh God, I couldn’t talk about this. If I did, even to alleviate his concerns, it would all come out. Panic struck. “I’m going to shower,” I said, jumping out of bed and hurrying to the closet. I grabbed a pair of short denim cutoffs and a white tank before disappearing into the bathroom.
Over half an hour later, when I came out dressed for the day, I was hoping Kade would be gone. No such luck. In fact, things were much, much worse.
Kade sat on my bed, my open suitcase on the floor, with his torn shirt—the one I’d worn in Vegas—in his hand.
I nearly turned around and went back into the bathroom.
He held it up in his clenched fist. “When were you going to tell me? Ever?” His anger was palpable and I flinched.
My voice was weak when I replied, “There’s nothing—”
“Stop lying to me!” He was up and in my face now. My back hit the wall. “I remember,” he hissed. “I remember everything.”
I could feel the blood leave my head in a rush. I stared at Kade, afraid of what was going to happen now.
“You weren’t ever going to tell me?” he asked, pain in his voice and betrayal in his eyes. “Did it mean so little to you?”
“Mean so little?” I echoed in disbelief. “You didn’t even remember!”
“I was drunk!”
“Which is supposed to excuse it?” I fumed. I didn’t care that I didn’t make sense. The hurt I’d felt since that night now had an outlet.
“I don’t recall you saying no,” he hissed.
“I’m talking about how easily you forgot,” I retorted.
“Well, I remember now,” Kade said, his voice low and intent. “I remember how it felt to be inside you, the feel of your body against mine, the taste of your sweat on my tongue.”
I could hardly breathe. His face was inches away, his eyes boring into mine, when he dropped the next bombshell.
“I remember telling you I loved you. But what I don’t remember is you saying it back.”
My heart felt torn into pieces at the anguish in his eyes. “Kade,” I began quietly, “you know I care about you—”
“But you don’t love me,” he interrupted. “You love him.” Kade jerked his head toward the door and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who he meant. “He used you, lied to you, betrayed you. And you’re still in love with him?”
I was too stunned by his anger to speak and so just looked at him, my eyes wide.
“I saw you two last night,” he continued, stepping away from me. The cold mask I knew so well turned his expression forbidding. “So tell me, have you slept with him since we’ve been back? Did you go straight from my bed to his?”
“I—”
“Or does he even know? Did you lie to him like you lied to me?”
Anger boiled up inside me. “He knows,” I spat. “And he doesn’t care. He wants me back. What do you want me for, Kade? An easy lay when you’re in town?”
I could tell by his eyes that I was treading on dangerous ground, but I was too mad to care.
“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” I asked, advancing on him. “Because there was no point. You told me you were going to drop out of my life and I’d never see you again. So what would knowing that we slept together have changed?”
“Maybe you just regret it so much you were glad I didn’t remember,” he accused.
“And you don’t regret it?” I asked.
“The only thing I regret is not waking up beside you the next morning.”
With that he was gone, slamming the door behind him. My stomach seemed to drop to my toes and I ran to jerk open the door, only to see Blane and Kade facing off in the hallway.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
What the hell are you doing?” Blane snapped at Kade. “After what she went through last night, you’re fucking yelling at her this morning?”
“Oh, excuse me, am I supposed to be taking advice on how to treat her from you?” Kade shot back. “In that case, let me crush her dreams and publicly humiliate and betray her. Am I missing anything?”
“At least I make my intentions clear. I want her back. You just screw with her head and put her in danger.”
“You mean like Gage trying to kill her? Or you holding sleazy Uncle Bob in higher esteem than your own fiancée?” Kade accused, his voice laced with contempt. “How many women, besides Kandi of course, have you slept with over the past three months? I’m sure Kathleen would love to know where your dick’s been.”
Blane grabbed Kade by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. “You were just waiting, weren’t you,” he snarled. “You think I didn’t know that the moment I was out of the picture, you’d try to fuck her?”
“Who said anything about try?”
Kade moved, so fast I couldn’t see what he did, but he was out of Blane’s hold now, his back no longer to the wall.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Blane asked. “Are you still so angry that I took too long to come get you? For all you went through? Are you trying to get back at me?”
“Give me a fucking break,” Kade scoffed. “Don’t try and blame this on some psychobabble bullshit about my childhood.”
“Then why?”
Silence from Kade as they glared at each other.
“Tell me why!” Blane shouted, making me jump.
“Because I love her!”
The silence in the wake of Kade’s outburst was deafening. Blane looked how I felt—stunned.
“I love her, too,” Blane finally said, his voice much quieter.
“I know,” Kade replied, the defeat in his voice painful to hear. “And she loves you. Not me. Congratulations. You win.”
He turned then, and our eyes met. Blane looked over at me as well. I stood, frozen, under their steady gazes. I imagined they were accusing me.
I swallowed. “This has to stop,” I managed to force out. “You’re tearing each other apart and I’m to blame. It never should have gotten this far.” And I didn’t know if I was referring to myself and Blane, or me and Kade.