Jamie insisted he felt fine until he collapsed beside the kitchen island.

Ethan caught his shoulders before his head hit the marble. Noah lifted his legs. Caleb was already calling the emergency department before Jamie understood he was on the floor.

“I’m not dying,” Jamie muttered.

“You don’t get to vote,” Ethan said.

“Dictator.”

“Stay awake and insult me.”

The ambulance ride came in flashes. Caleb’s hand around his wrist. Mason sitting near his feet, pale and silent. Noah arguing with a paramedic about following them. Lucas promising to meet them at the hospital after securing the house.

Jamie woke again beneath fluorescent light.

Five male voices argued beyond a curtain.

“I’m his physician contact,” Caleb said.

“You work here,” Noah shot back. “That’s not the same as being the person he wants.”

“He asked for water,” Mason said. “Could everyone stop shouting?”

“One visitor,” a nurse repeated.

Ethan’s courtroom voice ended the debate. “Then ask Jamie.”

The curtain opened.

Five anxious faces appeared in a row.

Jamie blinked. “This is either heaven or a very specific nightmare.”

Noah pushed forward. “Pick me.”

“Subtle.”

Mason held up a thermos. “I brought warm milk.”

“He isn’t six,” Ethan said.

“He likes it after panic attacks.”

Jamie looked at Mason. “How do you know that?”

Mason’s mouth softened. “Because I pay attention.”

The answer sent an unwanted ache through Jamie’s chest.

Caleb checked the monitor. “Your blood pressure dropped because of dehydration and residual medication. You’re stable.”

Lucas appeared behind them carrying Jamie’s laptop, phone charger, and favorite gray sweatshirt.

“I brought what he’ll actually ask for,” he said.

The nurse pinched the bridge of her nose. “One.”

Jamie looked among them.

Ethan was bruised.

Noah had dried blood beneath one thumbnail.

Mason’s shirt remained stained.

Caleb hadn’t slept.

Lucas had left the house only after making it safe.

“Can they rotate?” Jamie asked.

The nurse sighed. “Ten minutes each.”

Noah went first because he physically blocked everyone else.

He adjusted Jamie’s blanket, then adjusted it again.

“If you tuck that any tighter, I’ll become hospital sushi.”

Noah released the fabric. “Sorry.”

Jamie had never seen him so uncertain.

“You really caught me last night?”

“Three times.”

“And the mark on my hip?”

Noah’s eyes flicked toward the curtain. “Still want the answer?”

Jamie nodded.

Noah leaned close, stopping before their bodies touched. “You took my hand and put it under your jacket. You said, ‘Kiss me somewhere I’ll feel tomorrow.’ I asked if you were sober.”

“Was I?”

“Completely. Caleb made you pass his ridiculous coordination test first.”

Jamie almost laughed. “Of course he did.”

Noah’s gaze heated. “Then I kissed the skin above your hip. Once. You pulled my hair and asked for another. I said one was the rule.”

The monitor accelerated.

Noah grinned for half a second. Then he became serious.

“When you stopped making sense later, nobody touched you that way again.”

He left before Jamie could respond.

Mason entered with warm milk and a clean straw. He helped Jamie sit without assuming, waiting for each nod before touching his shoulder or pillow.

“You’re treating me like glass.”

“You scared me.”

“Is that why you asked if you disappointed me?”

Mason looked down. “You asked me to stay beside you. I left for four minutes to get towels. That was when the man tried the door.”

“What man?”

“We don’t know yet.”

Jamie caught Mason’s sleeve. “You’re hiding things again.”

Mason covered Jamie’s hand with his but did not squeeze. “Because Ethan asked us to wait until Caleb knew you were safe.”

“Ethan does not own the truth.”

“No. But he nearly broke his hand protecting you.”

Mason’s ten minutes ended.

Caleb came next, checked everything twice, and answered medical questions without evasion. The sedative was real. The dose could have been dangerous with alcohol. There was no physical evidence suggesting sexual activity after Jamie became impaired.

Relief made Jamie dizzy.

Caleb steadied the water cup rather than Jamie’s body.

“You were careful,” Jamie said.

“I will always be careful with you.”

The words carried more than medical concern.

Lucas entered and placed the laptop on the tray.

“I found hallway footage,” he said. “Most of it was deleted remotely.”

“Most?”

“I recovered fragments. I need time.”

Jamie studied Lucas’s unreadable face. “Why did I let you kiss my neck?”

Lucas rested two fingers on the rail beside Jamie’s hand. Close, not touching.

“You said everyone thought I didn’t want you because I never touched you.”

“Did you?”

“Want you?”

Jamie nodded.

Lucas finally covered Jamie’s hand with his.

“Every day for eighteen months.”

His ten minutes ended before Jamie recovered.

Ethan entered last.

He shut the curtain. Silence settled between them, intimate and sharp.

“Show me your hand,” Jamie said.

Ethan’s right knuckles were swollen beneath a bandage.

“Who did you hit?”

“Someone who tried to reach you.”

“Why won’t you tell me everything?”

“Because pieces are still missing.”

Jamie grabbed Ethan’s shirtfront and pulled him closer. “Stop deciding what I can handle.”

Ethan braced one hand beside Jamie’s pillow. Their faces hovered inches apart.

“You want honesty?” Ethan asked.

“Yes.”

“I have imagined you in my bed. I have imagined you wearing my shirt and saying my name. Last night, when you kissed me, I wanted to forget every rule we made.”

Jamie’s grip tightened.

“But you didn’t?”

“No.”

“Prove you can ask me now.”

Ethan’s breath changed. “May I kiss you?”

Jamie was clearheaded. The monitor was steady. Five minutes earlier, a doctor had confirmed he was safe.

“Yes.”

Ethan kissed him once.

It was controlled only for the first second. Then Jamie pulled him closer, and Ethan’s restraint cracked just enough for heat to flood the quiet hospital room.

Ethan stopped first.

He rested his forehead against Jamie’s. “I like you.”

“That sounded painfully inadequate.”

“I’m trying not to frighten you.”

The curtain whipped open.

Noah stood there with crossed arms.

“Did you think he was the only one?”

Noah’s bravado lasted exactly three seconds.

Then he looked at Jamie and softened. “I’m not here to compete while you’re scared.”

“You compete while making coffee.”

“Coffee has objective winners.” Noah dragged a chair to the opposite side of the bed. “This doesn’t.”

Mason entered carrying warm milk from the cafeteria and immediately regretted it when Noah laughed.

“He is not six.”

“He likes it.”

“I do,” Jamie admitted.

The ordinary fact loosened something in the room. Mason handed over the carton. Caleb adjusted the light after asking permission. Lucas remained near the door, tracking every person who passed. Ethan spoke with the detective and refused to use his family’s influence to bury the report.

Jamie watched them perform five different versions of care.

“This is why I’m confused,” he said. “You act like I belong to all of you.”

Ethan returned in time to hear it. “You belong to yourself.”

“That sounded rehearsed.”

“I’ve had six hours to practice not saying something possessive and idiotic.”

Noah leaned back. “He originally said, ‘He’s ours.’ Caleb threatened to sedate him.”

“I offered a breathing exercise,” Caleb corrected.

Jamie laughed, then pressed a hand to his bruised ribs. Five expressions turned murderous.

The nurse entered with a sealed evidence bag. Inside lay the torn paper coaster from the hotel bar. On it, in Jamie’s handwriting, were four shaky words:

ADRIAN TOUCHED MY DRINK.

The warmth vanished.

Jamie knew Adrian Vale. Everyone in their building did. He owned the club where the night had begun—and he had spent months pretending Jamie’s rejection was a joke.

“Now,” Lucas said quietly, “we have a name.”