“Kate, don’t go, we’re not done,” he ordered.
Grief tore through her and settled low in her stomach. “I didn’t go, Matt, you did. I trusted you once and I was wrong, and I have had to live with that. But we are done, Matt. You decided that years ago.” She backed away and he let her go.
She walked into the dimly lit establishment that was filled with the rich smell of wood and the sound of fiddle music playing in the background. Her eyes scanned the room until she found what she was looking for.
She went to the bar, ordered two eighteen-year-old single malt Scotches, and walked over to Tate’s booth, sliding in on the leather padded bench opposite and passing over the tumbler before he took notice.
“I should have told you about my past with Matt. I was wrong and you have every right not to forgive me, but I really hope you do because you are one of the few people in this world that I trust and I respect so much more than my actions have shown.” Her words tumbled from her with unmistakable sincerity.
“You have always had more guts than any other surgeon I know.” He picked up the glass she had brought him and took a fortifying mouthful. “That night six months ago you were right.”
“I know. We both did everything we could to save Mr. Weber but it was futile.”
Tate shook his head. “No, Kate, you were right about us. We were great friends and we loved each other, but we were not in love with each other. It took me a long time to admit that to myself. My pride was hurt when you rejected my proposal and the anger I felt towards you made it hard for me to realize that I was more angry than sad at what should have been the loss of the love of my life but wasn’t.”
“And now?” Kate asked tentatively, not knowing where the conversation was going.
“Now I should probably thank you and apologize to you for being an ass for the past several months, including my part in what happened today.”
“You have every right to be angry about what happened today. I’m angry. I should have been honest with you from the start when you asked if Matt and I knew each other. But it wasn’t like how he made it sound.”
“It doesn’t matter. For the most part, what happened in your past is none of my business.”
“For the most part?”
“Unfortunately, he is our hospital-appointed lawyer, and requesting a change in counsel might bring to light this little love triangle that I think we all would like to keep under wraps.”
“The hospital rumor mill would love that. It would give the operating room nurses something to gossip about well after my departure. Kate Spence, surgical slut.”
“Don’t.” For the first time in the conversation Tate’s anger returned. “You and I both know you are absolutely anything but.”
“Thank you,” she replied, embarrassed. Despite her level of comfort with Tate, it was still awkward to discuss her sexual history, particularly as he represented half of her total number of partners. He must have felt the same, because he drained the remainder of his glass.
“He still has feelings for you.” Kate’s eyes flew wide and landed on Tate. “It took me a while to pick up on it because things were so tense and uncomfortable between us, but today at his office I think he was clearly marking what he considers his.”
“I’m not his, he never wanted me. He made that very clear, repeatedly clear.”
Tate’s face quirked sarcastically and he changed his voice to a slow,, explanatory drawl. “Kate, I think we have already delicately established that at one time he wanted you very much, and I’m not wrong about him now. Finish your drink and let’s get out of here. We both have early mornings.”
Outside the bar he hailed them a cab and rode with her back to her apartment. When the cab stopped she immediately saw Matt sitting on the front steps of the brownstone, waiting.
“You have company. Do you want me to leave?” Tate asked as the cab pulled to a stop.
“No,” she responded, not sure what she wanted to happen but knowing she was in no state to be alone with Matt. Outside his office, out of his expensive suit, he looked more like the Matt she’d known, and she still didn’t trust herself, angry or not, to be with him.
Without further words, Tate paid the driver and exited the vehicle, coming around to her side to open the door and secure an arm around her waist both for support and as a statement.
“McKayne,” Tate greeted Matt.
“Reed,” Matt replied, before turning his burning stare directly to Kate. “I need to talk to you.”
“We have already talked today and we both said what we wanted to say. Nothing has changed since then.”
“By the looks of things, a lot has changed since then.”
“Not between you and I. Now, if you will excuse us, it’s late.” Kate avoided any further eye contact as she brushed past him, but felt his anger. She opened the door to her building and eventually the one to her apartment, with Tate still behind her. She didn’t look back when the door closed.
“He’s gone.” Tate answered her unasked question. “And I’m not wrong. Matt wants you. Badly.” There was no jealousy in his words.
“’Night, Kate. Take care of yourself.” Then he turned and left. Kate walked over to the door and locked up for the night. If only keeping her heart safe from Matt McKayne was that easy.
KATE WAS BACK with Tate. Again the sound of their names together and the very thought of it was sickening. Apparently competition was all Tate had needed to see the light and reclaim Kate as his own, and she had been ready and willing. He walked to the kitchen bar and poured himself a drink. He took a sip, allowing the feeling of the cool liquid flowing down his throat to replace the taste of bile the image Kate with another man brought forth.
It didn’t help. He reached for his keys on the entry table but then common sense returned. Nothing good would come of going back to Kate’s tonight. It would probably have the opposite effect of pushing Kate further into the other man’s arms. But he needed to do something. Something to take his mind away from the jealousy he felt towards Tate and the anger he felt towards himself for ever letting her go. He dropped the keys back onto the table, peeled off his shirt and went towards the punching bag in the den. Not bothering to change out of his jeans, he hit the bag, once, twice, and then again and again. No matter how many times or how hard he hit the bag, nothing changed. He wasn’t the man in Kate’s life any more, and he was entirely responsible for that.
He stopped punching and ran his hand through his sweat-drenched hair, feeling his chest rise and fall with the force of his exertion. He needed to cool off his body and his temper so he walked outside onto the penthouse balcony, letting the cold night air hit the bare skin of his chest. He rested his hands on the cement ledge, looking out into the night and without thought in the direction of Kate’s apartment. He couldn’t escape it. Tonight was going to be another night where he relived their ending and the choice he had made.
Kate had always been a temptation he couldn’t resist. From the moment he’d seen her, to every time he had spent time with her, he had told himself he needed to walk away, until he finally had, but not until after the damage had already been done.
If he had known how they were going to end, maybe that would have been enough to keep him from her. But from the moment he’d met her she had became like a vice, a secret addiction that he felt powerless against. He had known that it would never last, couldn’t last. Kate hadn’t fitted into his world, and the way they had been together wouldn’t have lasted once his