Olivia's warm, tentative hand slid up Nate's arm and he pinched his eyes tighter, gripped the edge of the sink in her suite's kitchen harder. He tensed at the pleasure/pain combo her touch forever instilled and hunched to defend himself. Or her.

For going on three days, he'd watched her lying in bed, pale as a corpse, and sick to his gut with abject fear she wouldn't wake up. Every concussion check by Mae or Amy or Nakos that first night had been goddamn torture until she'd ...