Oh, God. Another Wilder. She couldn’t handle the two she had. “What time is it?”

He tugged the covers off her head. Looking way too cheerful, he said, “Past time for you to get your cute little ass out of bed.”

She sat up and moaned at the quick movement.

He was watching her, both sympathetic and annoyingly not hungover. “You going to live?”

“Yes,” she lied. Because with a bottle of aspirin, maybe she’d have a shot, but it was not going to be pretty. “I’m good. You can consider yourself relieved of baby-sitting duty.”

She’d have figured he couldn’t wait to run out of here, but he took the time to lean in and kiss her. “Try some pain reliever.”

“Oh, I’m all over that, trust me.”

“Good.” He paused, smile fading. “Katie, about your dream.”

“What about it?”

“I know you say you’re doing great and everything is all just peachy, but can that be true if you’re still dreaming like that?”

She felt herself close up just a little. “It was a fairly big trauma. I think it’s understandable.”

“It is. It absolutely is. It shook you up, left you grieving and guilty, and-”

“Guilty?”

His gaze, stark and green and unfathomable, met hers, and something inside her tightened uncomfortably. “You know,” she said. “You had a trauma too. I’d think you’d get it.”

“I do. But mine didn’t involve survivor’s guilt. Mine was my own stupidity, and my own fault, so I have no one to blame but myself. I think that’s why I sleep at night, because I know it, I accept it.”

“You accept it? Is that why you roamed the planet for a year?”

“Okay, so it took me a while,” he said quietly, not rising to the bait. “I fully admit that. I let it f**k with my head, but I’m working that out now. You-”

“Are fine.” Dammit, her heart hurt, and she didn’t know why. “I’m fine. You’re right, my situation is different from yours. I wasn’t living my life, I was just breathing through it. Now I’m doing things differently. Taking chances-”

“You went looking for something else in your life, something to soothe the ache. I get that. I believe in that. But I’m beginning to believe something else too. Yes, you took a chance leaving LA, but don’t mistake it for what it is. Maybe you’ve risked a new lifestyle, you’ve certainly risked life and limb on certain adventures out here, but as for the biggie, your heart, you haven’t put that on the line at all. Instead, you ran away from your world to escape the memories.”

She couldn’t scarcely breathe. “Don’t even try to tell me you know what it’s like to put your heart on the line.”

“I realize I haven’t mastered that particular skill. Haven’t even tried. But at least I know the difference between being a little reckless and truly taking chances. And you, Katie Kramer, aren’t truly taking chances. You’re hiding.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? Then tell me about the accident. All of it.”

“Now’s not a good time.”

“When would a good time be?”

“Never. Does never work for you?”

He was quiet a moment. Then he let out a very quiet, very final sounding “fine,” and walked to the door.

She didn’t stop him, and when he was gone, she let out a breath. Her throat was burning, but she was not going to cry. Instead, she stood up. Bolstered by the fact that she didn’t die, she headed to the shower, stopping short at the sight of herself in the mirror. It took her a whole five seconds to form another “Ohmigod.” Her hair was…well, wild was too kind a word. Rioted came far closer to the truth. Her mascara had run in attractive rivulets beneath her eyes, and she was pale as a ghost. Actually, she looked like death warmed over.

And she’d blown it with Cam. Irrevocably, irreversibly blown it. Not able to go there without wanting to lose it, she got into the steaming shower and then rushed through her morning routine because she was already late.

She ran, while holding her head, up the stairs of the lodge, skidding to a painful halt in front of her desk, behind which sat Stone. The last time she’d seen him, she’d been in his brother’s truck, where they’d clearly been attempting to jump each other’s bones. She had no idea how he felt about that, but she had a feeling she was going to find out.

Stone was wearing snow gear, signaling that he had imminent plans to go outside. He was frowning, signaling irritation, which just might be her fault. And he was rifling through her files, managing with his sheer size to make her chair and desk seem very small.

“Hey,” he said without looking up. “I need to see the printout of receivables from last month. T.J. wanted to know about-”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Yeah, no problem. I probably could have found it in the computer, but mine isn’t booted up yet.”

“Stone, I’m really sorry.”

He looked at his watch. “It’s only five after eight.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Guilt and remorse tightened her throat. “I’m sorry about the other thing.”

“Which?”

“Yesterday. When you found me in Cam’s truck and we were-”

He winced. “Listen, we-”