"Nathaniel Sawyer's family?" a doctor called.

Nate and his mother quickly stood up from their chairs and hurried to him. I glanced around at Jo, Cam, and Cole before looking over at Peetie and Lyn, who had arrived a little while after I had. We'd been waiting for hours and hours, and now all of our expressions were the same.

Hopeful.

Desperately hopeful.

At the sounds of Sylvie's sobs my lungs ceased to work and I watched in horror as Nate pulled her into his arms. Cam, his eyes hollow with grief, moved toward his friend. He rested a hand on Nate's shoulder and Nate gave him a small smile, shaking his head.

Cam's body slumped, as if with relief, and my lungs started working again. He strode back to us, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Nathan made it through the surgery. He's stable."

"Knock, knock." I leaned around the hospital door, wearing a huge grin.

I'd left Nate to be with his mom and dad for the last few days, but on Monday I cut out of work to make visiting hours.

Nathan was alone in his room, watching television. He blinked in surprise at the sight of me and then smiled widely as I walked in. Having dealt with a very sick person, I was a master at schooling my reaction to the physical toll sickness could take. Nathan's frame looked so much smaller as he lay in the hospital bed. His cheeks were drawn and there were a few more wrinkles around his mouth than there had been when I'd last seen him.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, sitting up, careful of the wires connecting him to monitors hooked up by his bed.

Laying the flowers I'd brought with me on the bedside table, I pulled up a chair. "I was worried."

"Pfft." He waved me off. "What's a little coronary disease?"

I glared at him.

"Aye, Sylvie didn't think that was funny either."

My lips twitched. "Don't make me laugh. I'm trying to be stern."

"Stern?" He huffed. "Stern? I'm going to be on medication for the rest of my life and I have to cut out my favorite food. My entire life is going to be stern from now on. I don't need stern from a pretty girl too."

"Fine," I agreed. "I won't do stern." I glanced around the room in confusion. "Where is Sylvie?"

"Och, I sent her home. She's absolutely shattered. She wouldn't leave me." He tutted. "Had to get my doctor to make her leave so she could get some rest. I'm going to pay for that later."

I snorted. "I'll bet."

"Nate's downstairs getting coffee, if you were wondering . . ."

My gaze was sharp as our eyes met. "You know, don't you?"

"The two of you didn't exactly do a bang-up job of hiding it when you came to visit. I am sad to hear it didn't work out, though . . . Which begs the question . . . What are you doing here?"

I answered belligerently, "Is a person not allowed to be worried about another person?"

"Aye, of course. You being a nice girl, I think you probably were worried about me and that's appreciated, but I think more than anything you're worried about my son. Which makes two of us." His brows dipped in concern. "He misses you."

"I miss him too," I confessed softly.

A throat cleared behind me.

Turning, I discovered Nate standing in the doorway, stirring a cup of coffee. He pinned me to my seat with the weight of his stare.

"Nate." I finally found my voice. "I just wanted to stop by and see how Nathan was doing. I should get going." I stood up.

"Nonsense." Nathan stopped me, gesturing to me to sit down. "There's still half an hour left. Sit. Talk." He looked up at his son. "Sit down."

Nate looked like he wanted to laugh as he casually took the seat beside me.

My eyes, with a will of their own, traveled over the long sprawl of his legs. Tingles hit me unexpectedly as I lifted my gaze to his hands, continuing to stir his coffee. He had beautiful, masculine hands-graceful, strong fingers that were callused from work and judo. The soft roughness of his hands had always felt wonderful. And the T-shirt he was wearing showed off his strong forearms. I looked quickly away from the thick vein that ran up his muscular arm. I'd licked the entire length of that vein with my tongue.

Hurriedly, before I expired on the spot, I turned my attention to Nathan.

He was smirking at me.

Great. Even sick, the guy could tease.

"So how have you been, Olivia? Nate says you're seeing someone." His tone had turned disapproving.

"I'm not seeing someone," I answered irritably. Technically, I wasn't seeing Ben. Yet.

Nate sat up. "You're not?"

I flicked a look at him before directing my answer to his dad. "It's just been a couple of dates."

Nathan frowned. "That constitutes as seeing someone." He looked at his son. "What do you think?"

"Agreed," he answered tersely. "And it definitely looked serious."

Starting to feel uneasy, I exhaled. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Why? Nothing else is as interesting."

I groaned. I was so not ready to do battle with two Sawyer men. "Fine, then I should definitely go. Nathan, I'm so happy you're going to be okay." I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignoring his bemused expression.

Not looking at Nate, I quickly exited the room.

"Olivia, wait," Nate called as I hurried down the hospital corridor.

I did not wait.

That's why I found myself caught in his hard grip and unceremoniously hauled into a dark janitor's closet.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, feeling his breath against my cheek as he pressed me back against the door.

His answer was to kiss me.

I froze in shock at the move, but soon the shock wore off under the feel of warm, coaxing lips. Perhaps it helped that he wasn't aggressive or fierce. His kiss was soft, yearning. My lips answered to that and I found myself kissing him back.

Nate pulled away first, panting heavily as he nuzzled my cheek, his hands iron bands around my biceps as he breathed me in. I was surrounded by him. The familiar strength of him, his scent, his taste on my tongue, even the slightly bristly feel of his cheek on mine.

I closed my eyes, tears clinging to my lashes.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the loss of him wasn't the most painful thing in the world. As I stood there in his arms, knowing that he would never really be mine, it occurred to me that more than loss, it was the longing that hurt.

"You're the first person I thought of," he told me hoarsely, his words vibrating against my ear and causing an involuntary shiver. "The only one I wanted here with me."

Swallowing past the burning, choking ball of unshed tears in my throat, I whispered, "I'm sorry I ignored your call."

"Don't be. You came. That's all that matters."

Needing some kind of distance, some kind of break from the intensity between us, I cracked, "I think there's an inappropriate joke in there somewhere."

He laughed against my skin before pulling back. "Fuck, I've missed you, Liv."

"Nate." I pushed gently against him until he got the message. His hands dropped from around my arms, leaving me bereft. "I'm glad your dad is going to be okay, but I have to go."

"Liv, please-"

"Ben's waiting," I lied impulsively. I had this sudden fear that Nate's calls and his confession that he missed me were leading somewhere. And I didn't know if I was strong enough to do the right thing, so I wasn't going to give him the chance to mess with my head. "I'm meeting him."

He was quiet in the dark for a moment.

And then . . .

"We need to talk."

"No. We really don't." I fumbled for the door handle and managed to slip outside. He didn't follow.

I took that to mean that he understood there was no point.

CHAPTER25.

Apparently Nate didn't take it to mean that at all.

I shouldn't have been surprised really to find him waiting for me in my apartment when I got home from work that night. I slammed the door behind me and held out my palm. "I want my key back."

Nate had stood up as soon as I walked in, and now he was prowling toward me with this playful look in his eyes. The way his dimples played peekaboo had my face scrunching up like a five-year-old preparing for a tantrum. I did not need him to be gorgeous and charming right now! I definitely did not need the dimples.

"I swallowed the key."

"You didn't swallow it. If you'd swallowed it I'd have come home to a corpse."

Nate stopped with one eyebrow raised. "Should I be worried by how not upset you are at that prospect?"

My nostrils flared. I knew it. He was here to be charming.

I had to get him out!

"Give me my key."

Nate shrugged. "I can't do that."

"You have to," I huffed indignantly. "It's my key."

"Why are we still talking about the key?"

"We've barely even started talking about the key." My right foot moved back as Nate moved forward, his lids lowering sexily over his eyes. It was his hunting look. "Nate-"

"I love you."

I froze, almost gasping from the words, words that were fists punching gaping holes in my chest.

While I was in shock Nate took advantage. He stopped, inches before me, not touching me but not really needing to. The heat from his body licked my skin.

"My life has been hell without you," he confessed, his voice rough, his expression morose. "I thought I could do it. I thought I could lie to the both of us. But seeing you on the street last week with that guy and the little girl . . . It was a glimpse into the future. It didn't hit me until right in that moment that walking away from you, from us, meant having to watch you be with someone else, have kids with someone else." He closed his eyes as if in pain. "It cut me to the quick to see you playing happy family with that guy. Christ, Liv, I couldn't breathe."

And I couldn't do this. It wasn't enough.

Shaking my head, I stepped to the side so he couldn't back me into the corner. "Nate, you have to leave."

Instead he studied me carefully. "You're not ready to hear this yet," he concluded. "But I do need you to know that I'm going to fight for you. I'm not making the mistake of walking away from you again. The only man in your future is me, Liv. The only kids in your future are mine." Nate opened my front door, dug into his pocket and produced my key. He held it out to me and I took it tentatively, confused by the action. "I don't need to break into your life. You've put up a locked door between us and I understand why. But I'm going to stand outside it, bugging the absolute shit out of you." He smiled wryly. "Until you let me back in." His expression changed like a black cloud rolling in unexpectedly. "I'll warn you, though-you let that Ben guy in the door . . . I'll start fighting dirty."

Before I could respond, Nate slipped out, leaving me split in two.

Part of me was desperate to call him back, to savor those three little words that spilled from his lips. Savor them over and over again.

The bigger part of me, however, knew it wasn't enough. Maybe it was selfish, but I didn't just want Nate to love me. I wanted him to love me the way I loved him. The kind of love that's so big it would last beyond a lifetime.

The kind of love he had for Alana.

I don't know what I expected. Nate always had such a laid-back approach to life that I wasn't sure if he would really fight for me. Honestly, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't because it would make it easier for me to keep saying no.

The day after his little visit to my apartment, however, a basket of chocolates from my favorite chocolate boutique in the city was delivered to my work with a note from Nate: We have a date with melted chocolate waiting in our future . . . I'm going to paint you with it and lick my fill until you . . . Well, what is it the French call it? La petite mort. I love you.

Nate Not only had he had no qualms about writing something like that on a gift card that the delivery person could see, but I also had to deal with my colleagues, who'd ripped the card out of my hands before I could stop them.