He pushes himself too hard.

Not that I regret a single moment of it. My body’s still humming with pleasure as I curl over him, listening to his heart.

He’s asleep.

At least I hope so.

Worry grips me. Lifting my head, I watch his face, not sure what I’m looking for. His eyes flicker rapidly under his lids, his golden lashes gleaming in the morning light filtering through the window slats. His breathing changes, speeding up.

He’s dreaming.

I stroke his cheek, loving the smoothness of his skin under my fingertips, then the coarseness of his beard. I wonder how he’d look without it. When I first met him, it was short and trimmed along the lines of his face. Now it’s hiding him, a golden cloud.

I lower my hand before I start tugging on it.

Grinning, I glance around his room, taking it in, taking my time. I’ve been here a couple of times before, but it was always in the night for a quick fuck and sleep before he had to head out to the garage, and I always left with him.

It’s such a typical guy room. Plain, spartan, one huge bed in the middle and the closet taking up one side. The walls are unadorned but for one large drawing done in black ink.

A key, made up of smaller keys, made up of smaller ones. It’s like an infinity puzzle.

I squint at the bottom corner, and I think I make out the signature. Z. Madden. The same guy who did Kaden’s tats? Interesting.

I look back down at the guy asleep underneath me, taking up most of the bed with his big frame, his face relaxed once more, and trace his tattoos with my gaze.

Keys. So many keys. And Jared said they symbolize trust. Or rather, Kaden’s mistrust. All the locks that keep him from opening up, like some magic box, but what are the keys?

How do I make him trust me? Why wouldn’t he?

What if he needed more time, and I ran away before he could? I mean, look at me. I ran instead of giving him a chance to prove himself out of cowardice. I chose to protect myself, my heart, instead of sitting down to talk things out.

I shouldn’t feel so light-hearted, so… content. That talk we were supposed to have instead of him screwing my brains out against the wall can’t be put off for much longer. Maybe I should call the hospital.

What if he lost the memory of our fight forever? What if he never remembers it? Should I tell him?

Of course I should. What am I thinking?

It’s just that…I’m happy. Truly happy for the first time ever. I think even back when I first met Kaden, I wasn’t one hundred percent there.

I want to tell him I was wrong, that he didn’t betray my trust as I thought, therefore I trust him, but how do I do that without telling him what happened?

* * *

Later, I extricate myself from Kaden’s side to go get dressed and see how to have my stuff brought over from the hotel. I guess I’ll have to leave Kaden alone for a while, go pay and get everything back here. Then I should buy some groceries and cook up some breakfast. Or lunch, or whatever. And clean up the place a bit.

Or is it a bad idea? Am I presuming things? Making myself at home as if I belong here? Like, I haven’t asked him if he wants me staying here until he’s better.

Great, I’m second-guessing myself again.

I pull on yesterday’s clothes and wrinkle my nose at the smell. Yeah, I need my bag from the hotel, and maybe I could do a laundry. No matter what, he wouldn’t mind me using his washing machine, right?

God, I don’t want to go back to Chicago. Back to how we were until a few days ago. I want to be with him as we are now.

Sighing, I pick up my cell phone and find, like, fifty thousand messages from Trent, and a few from Maggie.

I should change my phone number.

Though I’m glad I didn’t, or Matt wouldn’t have located me to tell me what happened to Kaden.

I call Maggie, and she picks up on the first ring. “Hailey! You all right? You haven’t texted me or called me since you vanished and I didn’t know how it went!”

This is proof that I’m a crappy best friend and a deplorable human being. “Sorry, Mags. I got so caught up in everything I forgot to send you an update. Group hug?”

“You suck satyr balls, but sure why not? I’ll take the virtual hugs and leftovers.” She’s laughing, and it makes me relax. “I’m guessing a certain blond god is getting the real-life hugs and kisses?”

I sit down on the sofa, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Maybe?”

“Ha, I knew it. I knew you only had to talk to him!”

“Yeah, well. We didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t talk.”

A pause. I can almost hear the cogs turning in Maggie’s pretty head.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Depends? You think all sorts of weird things.”

“Have you been in Kansas City for, what, three days now, and all this time you’ve been in bed with Kaden Hansen?”

My ears are on fire. “No, of course not. He was in the hospital. Concussion, remember?”

“Yeah, sure.” She sighs. “But you haven’t talked. So… you’re coming back?”

I glance at the closed bedroom door. “I guess. I… don’t know. I mean, we will talk, but he doesn’t… doesn’t remember things yet.”

A gasp. “You frigging kidding me? He doesn’t remember what?”

“The fight,” I say miserably. “He thinks we never split up.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I know, okay?” I wince. “He’ll remember any moment now, though. And then we’ll talk.”

“Good!”

“Yeah? I’m so not looking forward to that. I’m scared. That he’ll decide I’m not worth it.”

“Of course he thinks you’re worth it. You know what they say about amnesia.”

I frown. What did I miss again? “What do they say?”

“That after the first day or so, after the confusion clears, if the person doesn’t remember something it’s because the person doesn’t want to remember.”

“Are you saying…?”

“That he obviously doesn’t want to remember the fight. He wants to remember that you two are together.”

My heart does a skippy thing in my chest. “You read this in some women’s fashion magazine, right? Amnesia is a real thing, Mags.”

“It was on TV,” she says mutinously, as if that proves it’s true. “I’m telling you, he will listen. After all, it’s his fault for texting with that woman, but maybe nothing happened between them and—”

“It was my fault,” I say quietly. “I know now what that was. Look, I have to go. Lots to do. I’ll call you again later, okay?”

“Okay, girlfriend. You take care, and use your words! No running away this time, not before you hash it out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say in a breathy voice that makes her giggle. “Bye now.”

I disconnect and put my phone down on the table.

Then I go check on Kaden. He blinks groggily at me when I bend over him, then grabs me and hauls me on top of his body as I squeal in shock.

“Hey,” he says, grinning down at me. He looks better than he has since I arrived, his face less drawn and pale. “Why are you dressed? This means I’ll need to undress you all over again. See, I forgot to tell you: in this apartment we don’t wear clothes.”

“Is that so?” I fight laughter, although the hard-on poking between my legs is serious.

“That is so, yeah.”

God, he’s so handsome. I lift a hand to his face, trace his mouth, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. “Hm.”

He lifts said brow at me. “What?”

“I’m staying here with you. Until you’re well enough to be on your own. I need to go and get a few things from, um, from my apartment.”

Jesus, I hate lying.

“You’re worried about me?”

“Yeah, I am.”

His gaze softens. “Then hurry up and come back soon. I really don’t know when I’ll be well enough to be without you.” He rolls his hips and his hard-on slides over my T-shirt like a hot poker. “Maybe never.”

Maybe never.

It sounds so much like a promise I smile down at him. I shouldn’t be feeling giddy over it, shouldn’t feel so happy.

And yet I am.