They’re still staring at me. Well, well. I kinda think that, no matter what Jesse says or believes, he’s made lots of good friends. They’re even ready to bake for him.

Who would’ve known?

I shoot them a nervous smile and call Jesse’s number. I honestly don’t expect him to answer—not after I blew him off so many times. Not after telling him I don’t trust him.

The call connects. There’s a pause, an indrawn breath.

Then I hear his low, bass voice. “Embers?”

God, I missed his voice so much. Missed him. “Hey.” I turn away. I don’t want his roommates to see me, in case I fall apart. “How is it going?”

Another pause, and I’m afraid he’ll hang up, but he puffs out a sigh. “It has been… kinda rough, to tell you the truth. You okay?”

He’s killing me, asking if I am okay. “Yeah. I’m fine. Your roommates were worried about you. Said you weren’t answering your phone.”

“My roommates?” I can hear the curiosity in his question. “My cell… fell. Case cracked. I thought it wouldn’t work again, but it does. I just turned it back on.”

“Oh, good. Stroke of luck.” Gage has gotten up and walked around the room to stand in front of me. Startled, I take a step back and give him a thumbs up. “So everything’s fine, then? Will you be coming back home?”

“Home.” His voice cracks, and worry slams into me. “Damn, Embers.”

“What’s wrong?” My heart starts to race. “Tell me.”

“It’s just that…” He swallows so hard I hear it over the phone. “Is it really you? Is this a prank? Because I’m not up to it right now.”

“It’s not a prank. I came over to your apartment to see you, and you weren’t here. Are you somewhere having fun?”

He laughs softly, and I find myself smiling. “Sorta. I guess when the painkillers kick in it might be fun. I’m at the hospital, but I’m being discharged, so I can go home.”

“The hospital?” I screech, my smile evaporating, and suddenly I’m surrounded by three huge, scowling guys. Eep. “Why? What happened? My God, are you all right?”

“Yeah, but Seth… He has a broken leg, and he’s calling Shane to pick him up. Maybe he can give me a ride.”

“The hell. I’m coming right now to pick you up. Where are you exactly?”

He protests, but gives me the name of the hospital. St. Mary’s.

“On my way,” I say. Love you. And I disconnect.

The guys make as if to follow me out, but I nail them with a stern look, and they backpedal.

Good.

“He’s okay. I’m going to him, but I’ll call you later and tell you more,” I promise them. “I swear.”

As if they could hold me back. Nothing can.

***

The emergency room is a mess of crying children, yelling mothers, people moaning and weeping and talking. There’s an air of stoic suffering that gets to me whenever I walk into a hospital. Not that I’ve been often, thank God.

I’ve also never had to look for someone admitted after coming to the emergency room, and cold sweat coats my palms as I look around for an information desk. Shaking the feeling a hundred pairs of eyes are trained on me, that the whispers going around are about me, making fun of me, saying mean things about me, I locate the desk and walk toward it.

This isn’t about me. Not everything is about me.

I need to find Jesse. Talking to him feels more urgent than ever. The thought of him hurt is turning my insides into knots.

“How can I help you?” says the guy behind the desk, who’s multitasking with the phone receiver held between his ear and shoulder, typing something on the computer and looking at me in the friendly yet dazed way of someone about to tear at the seams.

“I’m looking for Jesse Lee. He came in…” I gasp, because from the corner of my eye I see the exact person I’m looking for coming out of an office.

I’m sure it’s him, tall and broad-shouldered, his full lips set in a flat line, those stunning eyes dull.

Then he turns, and I stifle a gasp as I move toward him. He looks terrible, his jaw swollen, one eye black and swollen shut, dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

He’s beautiful.

“Embers,” he whispers, his voice choked, and it breaks me out of my trance. “You came.”

I want to ask a million questions—what happened? Who hurt you? Are you okay?—but I don’t. Not when he looks so utterly shattered. His eyes are suspiciously bright, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought Jesse Lee is holding back tears.

So I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around him. He hisses and flinches, and I belatedly realize he’s also hurt in places I don’t see, but when I try to pull back, he holds on to me and won’t let go.

As if we aren’t standing in the middle of the waiting room, with dozens of people milling around us. As if we are alone and the world has ceased to exist outside of him and me.

“I believe you,” I say against his chest, inhaling his scent of cinnamon and smoke and musk, sighing in pleasure. Under my arms, under my hands, he is as I remembered—no, better than I remembered, strong and good and real. “About Cassie at the wedding. About everything you have told me. I trust you.”

He groans as if my words are burning him, but he nuzzles my hair, peppers my forehead with tiny kisses, murmurs my name.

When he lets go at last, I look up at him.

“You’re all I want,” he says, his heart in his eyes. “Other girls don’t matter. It’s only you.”

“Why?” I ask, the word leaving my mouth before I can rein it in.

“Because you haven’t given up on me. Because you’re here, trusting me although everyone says I’m not to be trusted. Because you’re the prettiest girl in the world. And because…” He sighs. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

What way? I open my mouth to ask, but it has other ideas, so all that comes out after his confession is, “I brought you something.”

He dips his head until our lips almost touch. “What are you talking about?”

“Close your eyes.” I don’t expect him to, not really, but he does, and my heart breaks all over again at the sight of his hurts, and at way he places himself in my hands, no questions asked.

I fumble in my purse, unwrap the pendant, and pass it over his head to let it hang around his neck. The small stone lion gleams in the harsh fluorescent lights, resting against his dirty, blood-spattered white T-shirt.

“Okay,” I whisper. “You can look.”

He blinks, his hand grasping the pendant, lifting it. He swallows, the knot in his throat rising and falling. “Why?” he asks in his turn, his voice so low it’s barely audible.

“Because sometimes we need a talisman to help us believe in ourselves. You gave me yours,” I show him the leather bracelet. “I haven’t taken it off since you gave it to me. I feel you in it, always close to me. So I’m giving you mine, to protect you and tell you…” My mouth is bone dry. I have to lick my lips before I can speak. “That I’m in love with you.”

“God, Embers.” He pulls me back to him, crashes me to his chest, his heart booming against my ear. “Won’t you ask me? Ask the last question?”

Dammit, I have tears in my eyes, and I have no clue what he’s going on about. “What question?”

“I promised to answer three questions. Go on. Ask.”

“I don’t…” I sniffle in his T-shirt. “I don’t have any more questions.”

“Come on, Embers.”

I don’t reply. Can’t speak. I shake my head.

“I swear,” he whispers, his warm hand trailing up to my face, cradling my wet cheek. “I swear it.”

“Swear what?” I croak, my tears soaking his skin.

He tilts my head back and gives me his faint, bright smile that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle.

“I love you,” he says. “So fucking much. More than I ever thought I could, or will again.”

Oh God, nothing can top what he just said. So I rise up on tiptoe, fuse my mouth to his and kiss him into silence.

***

We spent the night in my bed, tangled together. We kissed until we passed out last night, but nothing more happened, and I’m fine with that.