“Bullshit. Need you.”

Kade tugged again and this time tried to sit up, too. A grimace crossed his face. Alarmed, I put my hand on his shoulder to still him.

“Okay, okay,” I said quietly. “Just lie down, all right?”

He lay back down on the bed with a sigh. I kicked off my flip-flops and climbed into the bed, carefully arranging myself on my side and trying not to disturb any of the equipment still hooked up to him. Kade wrapped one arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer.

It was him. He was alive, and judging by how he was already bossing me around, he was the same Kade. And despite everything I’d said—all those things that had hurt him—he still wanted me. Everything was going to be okay. Somehow.

Kade’s lips pressed against my forehead. I looked up at him. His blue eyes were clear as he studied me.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before. But I do. I love you.”

Kade didn’t react for a moment, and I was suddenly afraid that he hadn’t understood—that the pain medication and being unconscious for so long had made him too groggy. But then he spoke, his words a low rasp in my ear.

“You would have to tell me that when I’m laid up in the fucking hospital,” he said.

I huffed an unexpected laugh, and his soft smile made my heart feel lighter than it had in weeks. My whole body relaxed into him and my eyelids drooped. God, I was so tired . . .

Blane Kirk watched the scene from the shadows in the corner. He’d woken when Kat had settled into the chair by Kade, but had remained quiet. His heart had leapt when he saw Kade’s eyes open, relief flooding him. Kade was okay, was going to recover.

Blane couldn’t have lived with himself if his kid brother had died while saving his life.

The whispered words that Kat and Kade spoke had traveled across the room to Blane. Hearing Kat tell Kade she loved him had been like a hot knife sliding between Blane’s ribs, even though he’d known for far longer than she had.

Where did the three of them go from here? Blane couldn’t say. All he knew was that he loved Kade and Kathleen beyond anyone and anything else—and he’d do whatever he had to in order to see them both happy. If that cost him Kat forever, so be it, but he wasn’t going to give up until he heard it from her own mouth that they were over. She loved Kade, but she loved him, too, which meant he still had a chance.

Blane could tell that Kat had fallen asleep, her body relaxed as she lay tucked next to Kade. Fiddling with the bed controls, Kade eased the bed up slightly so they weren’t lying flat, but Kat didn’t stir. Blane was glad she was asleep. She’d been awake for nearly forty-eight hours straight, almost dead on her feet from sheer exhaustion. Dark circles marred the delicate skin underneath her eyes, and her face was drawn and pale. The only thing Blane had seen her consume was coffee.

Not once had she blamed him, or had even hinted that she knew the whole reason Kade had nearly died was because of him. But then again, it wasn’t in her character to think that way. If only Blane had realized that months ago. So many what-ifs . . .

What if Blane hadn’t been so jealous of what he’d so clearly seen between Kade and Kathleen . . . If he hadn’t listened to his uncle . . . If he had believed Kat instead of Robert . . . If he hadn’t given in to old habits, using Kandi in a way that left him feeling ashamed now . . . If he hadn’t been so angry that night, the night after he’d realized Kade and Kat were in Vegas together, sleeping together . . .

The what-ifs could paralyze him with regret.

Kade was stroking Kat’s hair now, his fingers combing slowly through the long, strawberry-blonde locks. His expression was rapt as he gazed down at her, and if Blane had had any doubts as to the depth of Kade’s feelings for Kat, they would have been washed away in that single, unguarded moment.

Suddenly, Blane felt like an intruder. The naked adoration on his brother’s face was something private. Kade wouldn’t appreciate that Blane was spying on them, even if it was unintentional.

Blane closed his eyes, then gave a big sigh and yawn. He stretched before opening his eyes again. As he’d expected, Kade’s expression had shuttered, his gaze now on Blane rather than Kat.

Rising from the chair, Blane rubbed an imaginary crick in his neck as he walked toward the bed. It didn’t escape his notice that Kade seemed to instinctively draw Kat closer, as if to claim her as his.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, so as to not disturb Kat. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” Kade deadpanned.

“That tends to happen when you get in the way of bullets.”

Kade’s lips twitched.

“Thought I was going to have to wake your ass up myself,” Blane said. “She wasn’t going to make it much longer if you didn’t.” He nodded toward Kat, who slept on, oblivious to the conversation taking place.

Kade glanced back down at her, his face softening.

“She’s one tough chick,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles gently down her cheek.

“In some ways,” Blane agreed. “In some ways not.”

Kade looked back to Blane, who met his gaze.

“Are we going to do this now, brother?” Kade asked, his voice deceptively smooth, though Blane could see a flicker of fear in his eyes. Kade’s hold tightened on Kathleen, as though he was afraid that Blane would take her from him.

“You mean talk about the elephant in the room?” Blane said dryly, cocking an eyebrow.

“She’d get pretty pissed off if she heard you call her an elephant.”

Blane grinned. Kade never failed to amuse him, even when they were talking about something so serious. For a moment he just reveled in the knowledge that Kade was alive, was going to be fine. Thank God.

Blane couldn’t help reaching out, his fingers lightly grasping Kat’s lax hand. She didn’t stir. Kade’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t protest Blane’s touch. It seemed as though each of them wanted to mark her as his.

“She told me she loves you,” Blane admitted, “and me. What that means, I have no idea. But we can talk about that later. For now I just want you to get better.”

Kade’s grip on Kathleen loosened, just a fraction.

Blane pretended not to notice, though his gut twisted. Too many mistakes and, eventually, you couldn’t go back. He vowed not to make any more.

Blane glanced at his watch. “It’s late, and I’m beat,” he said with forced nonchalance. “Since you’ve reasserted your presence among the living and coherent, I’m going home to get some shut-eye. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Sounds good,” Kade said, resting his head against the pillow. His eyes slipped closed.

Blane turned away and headed for the door. Pulling it open, he glanced back one more time.

The dim lights cast a faded, golden glow over Kade and Kat. He’d resumed stroking her hair and she still hadn’t moved.

“Kade,” Blane said.

He glanced up.

“Thank you. For saving my life.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Kade’s lips. “The least I could do,” he said. “You saved mine first, remember?”

Blane shook his head sadly. “No, I didn’t. Not really.” He paused. “But she may have.” His gaze fell on Kat as Kade’s brow furrowed, then he turned and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

Sunlight streaming in through the window woke me in the morning. I squinted, and it took a moment for my sleep-fogged brain to realize where I was and who I was with.

Kade.

He’d finally regained consciousness last night, and now I lay curled into him, his arm slung over my shoulders and mine draped low across his abdomen. The heart monitor beat a quiet, reassuring rhythm while the IV hooked to Kade’s left arm steadily dripped its fluid down the plastic tubing.

His eyes were closed, the evenness of his breathing signaling that he was sound asleep. I dearly wanted to wake him, see his eyes and hear his voice again, but I resisted the temptation. I knew he needed to rest.