The words circle in my head like vultures. I don't know how bad. Logan's voice was wrong. Too tight. Too careful. People sound like that when they're trying not to scare you. When the truth is worse than what they're saying.
I think of this morning. Kai dropping me at work, his hand lingering on my cheek. The way he looked at me like he wanted to say something but held back. The way I held back, too.
We've been dancing around each other for weeks. Almost something. Not quite anything. I've kept him at arm's length because I was scared. Because James broke something in me and I didn't trust myself to know the difference between a man who wanted to control me and a man who just wanted me.
And now Kai might be?—
No. I can't think that.
The city blurs past the window. Every red light feels like a personal attack. I catch the driver glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“You okay, miss?”
I realize my cheeks are wet. I'm crying. When did I start crying?
“Someone I care about is hurt,” I manage.
He nods, something softening in his face. “I'll get you there.”
All that time. All those moments when we were close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I know the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles at something I've said. I know the small scar on his jaw that I've never asked about. I know how his hair curls at the back of his neck when he's been running his hands through it, and I've never once let myself touch it.
And I always pulled back. Always found a reason to wait.
What if I never get the chance?
I've never even kissed him.
The thought lands like a punch. All those nights lying awake thinking about his mouth. And I've never felt it against mine. Never will, if?—
No. I can't finish that thought.
What if the last thing I ever said to him wassee you laterlike it was nothing? Like he was nothing?
The cab pulls up to the hospital. I shove money at the driver, not counting, not caring. Run toward the entrance, sneakers slapping against pavement.
The reception area is all soft lighting and sleek furniture. Calm. Serene. It feels like a lie.
“I'm here to see Kaiden Rhodes,” I tell the woman at the desk. My voice is shaking. “He was brought in earlier.”
She frowns at her screen. “I'm sorry, I don't have anyone by that name.”
“He's here. He has to be here. Logan Parker called me?—“
“Emma.”
I spin around. Logan is walking toward me, Ethan a step behind.
Logan's face stops me cold. He looks wrecked. Eyes red-rimmed, jaw tight, like he's holding himself together by sheer will. Ethan isn't much better. Usual composure cracked, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched.
They look like men waiting for bad news.
“How is he?” My voice comes out strangled. “Logan, how is he?”
Logan opens his mouth. Closes it. For a horrible second, I think he's going to say the worst.
“He's alive,” Ethan says quietly. “We're waiting for news, but he's alive.”
The relief hits so hard my knees buckle. Logan reaches out to steady me, hand gripping my elbow.
