Chapter Six

Josie

Do I?

Can it be that he wants me as much as I want him? It would be so easy, too…

Except it wouldn’t.

I might have given him a few bare facts, but he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know who I am, or my connection to his old life. And besides, he’s a patient.

I take a step back, letting out a long breath.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice filled with regret. “Did I say the wrong thing? Did I move too fast?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what, Josie? What did I do?”

“It’s just…” My phone rings, interrupting me and I curse under my breath, pulling it from my back pocket. Hunter’s name is displayed on the screen, so I know I can’t ignore him. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

Drew nods his head, and I move away, connecting the call to his brother.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt you, Josie.” Not as sorry as I am .

“What can I do for you?”

“I need you to come up to the main house.”

“When?”

“Now.”

He isn’t giving me any options and doesn’t seem to want to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Okay. We’re just taking a walk, so I’ll have to get Drew back to the cottage, and then I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks.”

He hangs up, and I wonder what’s wrong. He seemed much more abrupt than he usually is, and I look around, trying to see if we’re visible from the house… if he’s been watching us, and has seen how close we came to kissing just then. That doesn’t make sense, though. We’re on the other side of Drew’s cottage and I can’t even see the main house from here, so that can’t be it, although something’s clearly wrong.

“Who was that?” Drew asks, breaking into my worries.

“Hunter.”

“My brother?”

I hate that he needs to check, that he still doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know who I am… who his daughter is.

“Yes. He needs me to go up to the main house.”

“What for?”

“He didn’t say.”

“And you have to go right now, do you?” His face darkens.

“I’ll get you back to the cottage first.”

He stares at me for a moment and then nods his head, like he’s reluctant to accept the situation.

Neither of us says another word, but we retrace our steps, Drew opening the door when we get to the cottage.

“Do you need anything?” I ask him as he turns to face me.

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I can get you a coffee, or a glass of water?”

“I’m okay.”

I step closer. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not.” He reaches out, his fingertips just skimming over my cheek. “I’m not mad at you, Josie. But this is so damn difficult.”

I don’t know whether he’s talking about what just happened outside, or the situation as a whole, and even if I wanted to find out the answer, I don’t have time to ask.

“I—I need to go.”

He lets his hand fall to his side again. “Sure.” He steps back and I move toward the door. “Josie?”

“Yes?” I turn back to face him.

“Don’t be long,” he says.

“I’ll be as quick as I can.”

He nods his head and, as there doesn’t seem to be anything else to say, I open the door and let myself out, following the path that leads to the main house.

My mind is a whirl of indecision, my thoughts racing. I should feel happy. I know I should. This feels like a dream come true. I’ve wanted Drew for so long, and loved him even longer. It seems he wants me, too. But, does he even know what it means to want someone? Does he know what that entails? He obviously used to. He has a daughter to prove it. But now? Does he remember? Because if he doesn’t, we’re in trouble. The kind of trouble I can’t resolve.

And what about love? He hasn’t mentioned it, and I need him to.

Maybe that’s another part of what’s holding me back and stopping me from leaping into his arms… aside from the fact that he’s a patient, that he has a daughter of whom he knows nothing, that her mother was my step-sister and that he doesn’t know who I am, let alone who he is.

Why couldn’t this be simple?

Why couldn’t we just have met and fallen in love, like a ‘normal’ couple?

I let out a sigh, knocking on the front door of the main house. It’s opened within moments by a woman who appears to be in her early sixties. She has red hair, with a few gray streaks, and she looks at me with sparkling green eyes.

“You must be Josie?” she says.

“I am.”

She smiles. “I’m Pat. We haven’t met yet, but I—I wanted to thank you for everything you’re doing for Drew.”

I don’t know what to say, especially as I know how dishonest I’ve been about my role in his past. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Oh, I think we do.” She steps aside. “Come on in. Hunter’s in his office.”

I enter the house and she closes the door, giving me a moment or two to take in the wood flooring, the white walls, and the wide staircase that leads up to the second floor.

There’s an archway to one side, but Pat opens a door opposite, waiting for me to enter Hunter’s office. It’s a big room, with a desk at one end and a couch by the window that overlooks the front of the house. Hunter is sitting behind the desk, but he stands the moment he sees me, walking over to greet me.

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” he says, ushering me into the room. The door closes behind me, and I focus on the other person in the room. She’s sitting in one of the two chairs facing Hunter’s desk and she turns around to face me, revealing herself to be a very attractive woman in her mid- to late-forties, with short dark hair that frames her face. “Please, take a seat.”

I sit beside the woman, who stares at me for a moment longer and then looks across the desk at Hunter. I don’t know who she is. He looks a little awkward; she looks uncomfortable, and I’m just wondering if I’m going to have to ask to be introduced, when the woman turns in her seat, holding out her hand to me.

“I’m Lindsay Bennett. I’m Drew’s mother.”

I’m not sure how that’s possible. She doesn’t look old enough, but I take her slender hand in mine, using the moment to think; to remember to stay silent. Drew’s never mentioned his parents to me, but even if he had, I wouldn’t be able to say anything without giving myself away.

Fortunately, I don’t need to. Hunter coughs and his mom withdraws her hand from mine, both of us turning to look at her son, who’s frowning at her from the other side of the desk. He averts his gaze to me, his expression lightening a little.

“I’m sorry, Josie. I need your advice, but in order to ask for it, I’m gonna have to take you into my confidence… or rather into the family’s confidence.” He glances at his mother again. “The situation is complicated, but I hope you’ll be able to help.”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” I say, even more confused than I was before.

He nods his head and sits back. “As you know, I drove into the city this morning to fetch my car. When I got back, I found our mother here, waiting to see me.”

“That’s not strictly true,” Mrs. Bennett says. “I asked to see Drew and the woman who let me in told me I couldn’t, and I’d have to wait for you to get back first.”

He stares at her for a moment and then turns back to me again. “However it happened, what you need to know is that Drew hasn’t seen our mom since he was six years old, and I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for him to see her now.”

“Why not? He’s my son.” Mrs. Bennett sits forward in her seat.

“Then why the hell did you leave him? Why did you abandon him, and Ella… and me?”

I can hear the hurt in Hunter’s voice, even now, over twenty years later, and I wonder what effect that abandonment had on Drew.

“I—It’s hard to explain.” Mrs. Bennett stumbles over her words, glancing at me and I wonder if she’d rather I wasn’t here… if she’d be able to talk better if it was just her and her oldest son. The problem is, Hunter said he needed my help, so I’m staying put.

“I’m sure it is,” he says, narrowing his eyes at her.

“It wasn’t easy coming back to this house, after all this time.” Her voice cracks, but he seems unmoved.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed away so long. Or better still, maybe you shouldn’t have left us in the first place.”

“I had no choice.” She raises her voice, emotion getting the better of her, and Hunter stares at her, like he’s battling his own feelings, trying to decide whether to sympathize with her, or recoil from her. Neither side seems to come out on top, and after a moment or two, he turns back to me.

“I’m sorry, Josie. This must be very difficult for you.”

It’s nowhere near as difficult for me as it seems to be for him, but I smile, hoping it’ll help. “It’s okay. I’m guessing you’ve asked me to be here because you want my opinion about whether it’s wise for Drew to meet with his mother?”

“Yes.”

I nod my head. “I don’t know how Drew reacted to his mom leaving, but he was very young when it happened, so I imagine it would have been traumatic for him… for all of you.”

“It was.” Hunter glances at his mother again. “To be fair, I think it was harder on me than it was on Drew or Ella. I was eleven. I blamed myself.”

“Hunter?” His mom’s voice cracks and she reaches across the desk, although he ignores the olive branch. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s not the point right now, Mom. The point is, should we let you see Drew? Should we even let him know you’re here?”

I sit forward and they both look at me. “Drew remembers nothing about his past yet,” I say. “He’s still struggling to come to terms with the idea of having a brother. He doesn’t understand the setup here, or his life before the accident. We haven’t even broached the concept of him having a sister, and I’m concerned this situation could cause more harm than good.” I turn to Mrs. Bennett. “I’m not judging you for anything you’ve done in the past, and I’m not questioning your motives. All I’m saying is that, while it might make you feel better to see your son, at this point in his treatment, it won’t help him.”

“What should I do?” she asks.

“Wait. I’m sorry to keep saying it to everyone, but it’s all you can do. Once Drew remembers things for himself, we can re-assess the situation and ascertain his state of mind a little better.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I don’t know. This isn’t a precise process.”

She turns back to Hunter, like she’s about to plead with him to change my mind, but he merely shrugs his shoulders. “If that’s what Josie says is best, that’s how it has to be.”

She seems to deflate, staring at the top of his desk for a moment, but then she raises her head again. “What about Ella? Will you let me see her?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, either.”

“Why on earth not? What do you think I’m going to do to her?”

“Turn her life upside down. She’s grown up with no memories of you at all. You can’t suddenly walk back in here and expect her to accept you. Besides, we still need to think about Drew in all of this. He hasn’t met Ella yet, but when he does, the last thing we need is for her to blurt out that you’re back. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but if it’s gonna work, it has to be handled right.”

She swallows hard, blinking rapidly, like she’s trying not to cry. “Do you want this to work, Hunter? Do you want me back in your lives?”

“That depends what you want from us.”

“Forgiveness.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve always given you the benefit of the doubt, Mom. If Drew could remember anything, he’d be the first to tell you, I’ve always been the one to defend you. But you’re asking a lot. Especially right now, with everything else we’ve got going on. We haven’t heard a word from you in over twenty years. For you to just arrive on our doorstep, unannounced…” His voice fades and I can see, just from the look in his eyes, how hard he’s finding this.

“I know.” She gets to her feet, revealing that she’s a little shorter than me, and is wearing a plain pale blue dress. It fits her well, but doesn’t look expensive. Hunter stands up, too, and I follow suit, realizing she’s about to leave. “Can I call you?” she asks, looking at him.

“What for?” He seems confused by her question.

“To stay in touch… for updates on Drew.”

“I think it’s best if I call you.”

She tilts her head. “Will you, though?”

“I’ve said I will, so yes. Don’t expect daily reports, or even weekly ones, but I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“I—I’d better give you my number.”

He nods his head, picking up a pen and writing it down on a notepad, then he comes around the desk, heading for the door. When he gets there, he opens it and she crosses the room, looking up into his face.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Hunter.”

He sucks in a breath. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt. I’m just looking after Drew and Ella’s interests.”

“Like you’ve done since I left?” she says and he shrugs his shoulders.

“Maybe.”

“One day, I’ll be able to explain what happened, and hopefully you’ll understand.” He doesn’t answer, and after a moment or two, she turns to me. “Thank you for taking care of Drew,” she says.

“You’re welcome.”

She exits, Hunter following behind, and I hear the front door open and close as I deflate into my chair again. Moments later, Hunter returns, closing his office door behind him.

“I’m so sorry about that, Josie. She was here when I got back. I had no idea she was coming, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay. It must have been a shock for you.”

He sits down opposite me again. “That’s one way of putting it.” He leans back, shaking his head from side to side, trying to take it in, I guess. It’s easy to see he’d rather do that by himself, so I stand and he looks up at me, like he’s only just remembered I’m here. “Before you go, was what you said just now completely accurate? Does Drew really not understand yet that this is his home… and that I’m his brother?”

I sit again, just perching on the edge of the seat. “He’s asking questions, but so far, that’s all they are. He’s not drawing on memories at all.”

“I thought the doctor hoped he’d pick up on things when he got back here.”

“He did. But there’s a lot for Drew to take in. He’s trying to piece things together still.”

“And not getting very far?” he says.

“He’s finding it difficult.”

“And nothing he’s seen so far is helping?”

I shake my head. “Sometimes I think it’s just confusing him further.”

“In what way?” he asks.

“Well… he saw your wife in the garden, carrying Maisie. She was with Ella, and her baby, too. Drew didn’t recognize any of them.”

“Not even Livia?”

“Not that he said, and the babies meant nothing either. He assumed at least one of them must be yours, and that he’s an uncle, not a father.”

Hunter closes his eyes for a second, sucking in a breath. When he opens them again, I’m surprised by the level of pain that’s staring back at me.

“This is…” He stops talking, his voice filled with too much emotion.

“He’ll be okay, Hunter.”

He nods his head. “I know. To be honest, that’s not what’s worrying me right now.”

“What is then?”

“I’m concerned about Livia,” he says, surprising me.

I’d half expected him to tell me something else about his mom, so I can’t help the frown that forms on my face. “Livia?”

“Yes. She’s really struggling with looking after Maisie.”

“Is that why you’re here and not at your office in Boston?” I ask. “So you can help?”

“No. I’m here because of Drew. I want to be close by while he recovers.”

“In that case…”

“It’s not the practicalities of looking after Maisie that are the problem for Livia, it’s the fact that we’re trying to start a family ourselves, and it’s not working. The disappointment of that was hard enough before, but having to look after someone else’s baby when it seems she can’t have one of her own is breaking Livia apart. She wants to help Drew, but having to watch her go through this is… is killing me, inch by inch, every minute of the day.”

I know only too well how Livia feels, and even if I’m not about to tell him that, I pull my seat a little closer to his desk. “How long have you been trying?”

“Since the New Year.” He smiles, although it doesn’t touch his eyes. “At least, that’s when Livia came off her birth control pills. You might hear it mentioned that we only got married in February, but we talked things through and decided we wanted to start a family, and she may as well stop taking the pill straight away. Livia used to have problems with her periods being irregular, so we figured we’d give ourselves a head start, and if she was pregnant when we walked down the aisle, we didn’t mind in the least.”

“She has irregular periods?”

“Not anymore,” he says, rolling his eyes. “They’re as regular as clockwork now… worst luck.”

“Hmm… that can sometimes happen. Unfortunately, a doctor would tell you it’s still early days, even though I know it doesn’t feel like that to you.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry – again – but there’s nothing I can do to speed up the process with Drew. It’s impossible for me to make him remember his life any faster. I’m gonna go back to doing some more cognitive exercises now he’s settled into the cottage, but to be honest, they’re more about helping with his short-term memory problems than his amnesia.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting you to solve all my problems, and I’m grateful for everything you’re doing.”

I wish he wouldn’t keep thanking me. It makes me feel awkward. “Can I ask a question?” I say.

“Sure.”

“Does Drew have a camera here?”

He thinks for a moment. “I imagine so. He has them everywhere. Why do you wanna know?”

“Because he was asking me if he was a photographer.”

Hunter’s eyes spark to life. “Was that a memory?”

“No. He’d noticed all the photographs on the walls and the shelves at the cottage and asked if he’d taken them.”

His face pales. “Oh… should we have removed the pictures of Maisie? There are quite a few dotted around the house.”

“I noticed, but to be honest, it’s best that he sees the cottage as it used to be, so he can try to make associations with his past.”

“Okay.” He heaves out a sigh. “He hasn’t made the association of taking any of the photographs yet?”

“No… but I remembered you’d said all his equipment was taken back to his studio after the accident, and it made me think that, if he had a camera, it might just spark a memory for him.”

“I see. Well… as I say, I’m pretty sure there’s one here. It’ll be in a canvas bag somewhere.”

“Okay. I might get him to take some photographs with it, and see how it feels.”

***

Drew

Josie’s only been gone ten minutes, and I miss her already, like a part of me has gone with her. I feel incomplete and broken enough without this…

I moved too fast this morning. I know that now. She might have said I didn’t, but I did.

We got along so well yesterday, making coffee and flirting… or I thought we were flirting. I didn’t see the harm in trying again, and it felt right at the time. It felt like who I am, and I don’t know how to be anyone else… not anymore. Pretense is beyond me. All I can do is act on instinct, and all my instincts are telling me to hold her, to kiss her… to make her mine.

The problem was, she backed off, so no matter how much I want her, I need to slow down.

I also need something to take my mind off of missing her so much. But I can’t think what to do. What would I have done before? I look around the living room, my eyes settling on the photographs that line the walls. They must be relevant, surely. There’s an office upstairs… maybe that will tell me something.

I head up there, ignoring my unmade bed, and wander through to the office. The laptop on the desk is the most obvious place to start, and I open it, sitting down in the chair. The screen comes to life, but it requires a password, and my mind is a blank… yet again.

I open the drawer at the front of the desk, wondering if I ever wrote down my password, but all I find are pens, a couple of notepads, a box of paperclips and a few stray elastic bands. Very useful, I’m sure, but not what I need right now.

I stand again, frustration getting the better of me as wander over to the couch, flopping down onto it. I’ve got a slight nagging headache, but I pull forward the canvas bag and open it. Inside, there’s a camera… a very technical-looking one, and I wonder about the photographs again. Is this a hobby of mine? Or is it what I do for a living? Do I even need to earn a living when I’ve got enough money to live somewhere like this?

God knows…

I’m sick of questions, already – especially as there’s no-one who can answer them – and I stand up again, going back out through the bedroom and down the stairs.

My eye lands on a photograph of a baby. It’s on the shelf above the fireplace and I go over and pick it up, studying her closely. She’s lying on what appears to be a pink blanket and looks very much like the baby the blonde woman was holding… the one I saw yesterday. She’s absolutely beautiful, very cute, and I guess there’s a slight resemblance to Hunter. I turn, spotting another one of the same baby on the bookcase. It’s smaller, and this time she’s propped up in some kind of baby seat, staring straight at the camera, with the most perfect smile on her lips. She’s adorable, but what I don’t understand is why I have photographs of my brother’s daughter in my house. Am I that kind of uncle? Maybe Hunter and I are closer than I think. At the moment, that seems hard to imagine, but so is just about everything else when I don’t know who I am.

I turn to put the first photograph back, a blinding pain searing through my head, right behind my eyes. The room spins, and I drop the picture, clutching my head as I fall to the floor…

“Drew? Wake up… please.”

I open my eyes, slamming them shut again, the pain catching me unawares. “J—Josie?”

“I’m here.”

I feel her hand in mine. I’m lying on my side and I’m aware she’s right next to me. “My head.”

“Your head hurts?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hit it when you fell?”

“N—No. Don’t think so. It hurt before.”

“It was hurting before you fell?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you in pain anywhere else?”

“N—No. Just my head.” I try cracking my eyes open again, but the pain is still too much.

“I can’t lift you.”

“Let me try…”

“No.” She raises her voice slightly. “You stay exactly where you are. I’ll get help.”

I know when I’m beaten, and although I don’t know where she’s going to get help from, I can’t think about that. I can’t think about anything. It hurts too much.

“Hunter?” She must be on the phone, talking to my brother. The brother I don’t know. “Drew’s had a fall. Can you…?” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but then adds, “Thanks,” and says, “Hunter will be here in a minute,” talking to me now.

I’d nod my head, but I’m not brave enough to try, so I just lie still. It’s uncomfortable down here, but I’m not sure I care… especially as she’s still holding my hand.

Within minutes, I hear the door open.

“Jesus… is he okay?” I guess that must be Hunter. He sounds concerned, and a little out of breath. Does that mean he ran here?

Josie releases my hand and stands. “He says his head hurts, but I think it’s from the original concussion, not from the fall.”

“He’s conscious then?”

“Yes. He’s in a lot of pain, though, and I need to get him upstairs to bed.”

“It’s a good thing I brought reinforcements, then. You two haven’t met, but this is Mac.”

Who the hell is Mac? Hunter doesn’t explain and Josie doesn’t ask, which I guess means he’s significant to me and they’re not about to give away his identity. I want to turn over and look at the guy, in case he rings any bells… but I can’t. The pain is getting worse.

“Hi,” Josie says.

“Hello.” The man has a deep voice, but he doesn’t sound familiar to me, although I guess that’s not unusual.

“Mind the broken glass.” What broken glass? What’s she talking about? “Drew must have been looking at the photograph, and it broke when he fell.”

“I’ll get a new frame,” Hunter says, and I wonder if maybe he gave it to me in the first place. The photograph inside is of his daughter, so that would make sense.

“How are we gonna do this?” Mac asks, and I notice his strange accent, which I can’t place.

“The easiest thing is to put him on a chair, and lift the chair,” Josie says.

“Okay.” That’s Hunter’s voice. “I’ll fetch one from the kitchen.”

I hear him move away, then feel Josie kneel beside me again. “Broken glass,” I mutter. “Be careful.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine. Hunter and Mac are going to lift you onto a chair and carry you upstairs.”

“Okay.”

I feel too weak to argue, or to help myself, and she stands up again.

I’m aware of someone taking her place, although whether it’s Mac or Hunter, I couldn’t say.

“Josie…” That’s Mac, not Hunter, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from behind me, not in front. “Can you pass me that throw from the couch? If we lay it down behind him, we can roll him onto his back without worrying about the glass. It should be easier to lift him from that position.”

I feel someone pushing something soft against my back, and then the man in front of me leans closer. “Drew?” It’s Hunter, and although his presence has made me feel uneasy every other time we’ve met, I suddenly feel quite safe… probably because he’s my only hope of getting out of my current predicament. “We’re gonna roll you onto your back, okay?”

“Fine.” He eases me over, and I let out a slight groan, the pain shooting through my head.

They don’t leave me lying here for long, though, and with one of them on either side, they pull me upright, into a sitting position. My head feels like it’s going to explode, and I daren’t open my eyes, although I’m surprised I don’t feel dizzy.

“Let me just check his arm and side for cuts,” Josie says. “He fell on the broken glass.” She moves in, taking Hunter’s place on my left side, and I feel her raise my t-shirt, her fingers brushing over my skin as she examines me. “He seems okay. You need to get him on the chair,” she says, moving away again. “If I hold it, can you lift him?”

“Sure,” Hunter says, sounding confident, even if I’m not so certain myself. I feel him lift my left arm, and then Mac raises my right. “We’re just putting your arms around our shoulders, Drew, then we’re gonna stand you up. We’ll keep a hold of you, so don’t worry.”

That’s easy for him to say.

“Okay?” Mac says, and although Hunter doesn’t reply, I guess he must have given some kind of signal, because the next thing I hear is Mac giving them a 3-2-1 countdown, and then I’m being lifted onto my feet, like I weigh nothing. They pull me backwards, and then lower me again almost immediately onto a chair, and I let out a breath.

I take my courage in both hands and open my eyes. The pain is still intense, but I keep them open long enough to see my brother standing right in front of me, worry written all over his face as he pushes his fingers back through his hair. To his right is a dark-haired man, who I’m guessing is Mac. I don’t recognize him at all, but he’s handsome, despite the worried look in his eyes, and muscular enough that he seems like a useful guy to have around in the circumstances. Josie is standing off to one side, slightly behind the two of them. She looks scared, and I wish she’d come nearer. I need to hold her…

Mac steps forward. “Whichever one of us takes his feet is gonna be carrying the bulk of his weight once we start up the stairs.”

Hunter turns to him. “In that case, I’m volunteering you for the job.”

“Thanks,” Mac says, smiling, and Hunter moves around behind me, while Mac steps up in front. “I suggest you close your eyes again, Drew. We’re gonna tip you backwards, and it’s likely to make you feel dizzy again.”

I do as he suggests, tucking my arms in, because that makes sense to me. Moments later, I feel the chair falling backwards, resisting the instinct to reach out or lean forward, knowing they won’t let it drop. Sure enough, it comes to a steady stop at around forty-five degrees and then Mac counts down again, and on one, I feel them lift the chair.

It’s a strange sensation of being jostled, and part of me wants to open my eyes… but I decide against it and concentrate on sitting still instead.

Neither man says a word, and before long, they set me down again.

We’re upstairs already?

“I’ll just straighten the bed.” Josie must have come up with us, and I feel guilty now for not tidying up earlier.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just wanna get you comfortable, give you some painkillers and make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“She’s right,” Hunter says. “You’re not. Now… let’s lift you onto the bed.”

He and Mac put my arms around their shoulders again and haul me off of the chair. They turn me around and sit me on the edge of the bed, and then I feel someone pulling at my shoes. I guess it must be Josie, and I crack my eyes open to find her kneeling at my feet. That feels wrong. She doesn’t belong there… in fact, it should be the other way around. I should be kneeling before her.

“We’ll take the chair down and clear up the glass,” Hunter says.

“I can do that later,” Josie replies.

“No, it’s fine. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will… and thank you.”

I hear them move away, their footsteps on the stairs, their whispered voices fading into the distance.

“Let’s get you into bed,” Josie says, standing, as she reaches for the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it off over my head. “We’ll take these things off, just in case there are any fragments of glass in them.” I feel her tugging at the button on my jeans, undoing it eventually and pulling down the zipper. “If you lie down, I think I can pull them off.”

She pushes me gently to my side, holding onto me until my head hits the pillow. Then she lifts my legs up onto the bed and I feel her pulling on my jeans, tugging them down and eventually, right off. I’m only wearing my trunks and, although I wouldn’t object to her taking those off as well, she doesn’t. Instead, she pulls up the covers.

“I’m gonna fetch you some painkillers from my room. I’ll be right back.”

I nestle down slightly, getting comfortable, and relaxing at last. I never thought I’d be so relieved to be horizontal.

“Here…” She’s back and I feel her hand beneath my head as she raises it slightly and helps me swallow down the tablets she’s brought for me. “They should start working soon, and hopefully you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t think I could feel much worse.”

The mattress sinks slightly as she sits beside me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, the emotion in her voice cutting through me. I know it’s gonna hurt, but I open my eyes. She’s gazing down at me, looking so scared, it hurts me more than my head.

“What for?”

“I never should have left you alone for so long.”

I pull my hand from beneath the covers and reach out, caressing her cheek with my fingertips. “It’s not your fault, Josie. I’ll be okay.”

She sighs as I let my hand drop, although I can hear a stutter in her breath. “I’ll let you rest.”

“No… don’t go. Please.”

“Okay.” She shifts back slightly, so she’s sitting right up against me. It’s comforting, feeling her that close and I shut my eyes again…

I wake in slow stages, gradually becoming aware of my body… of the fact that it feels warm and rested, and that my head doesn’t hurt as much as it did. Then I notice the light, which doesn’t make me want to snap my eyes closed again… and finally I realize I’m alone.

Josie isn’t here.

I open my mouth to call out, but shut it again, fearful that although my head feels a little better, it’s not up to raised voices yet. Instead, I sit, taking care to go slowly, and then I twist around in the bed, setting my feet on the floor.

So far, so good.

I could use a drink, and some more painkillers, but there’s no clock in here. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been sleeping. Is it too soon to take more tablets? Josie’s the only one who can tell me that, and I cling to the nightstand as I get to my feet, feeling okay about being upright.

I step cautiously to the door, which is wide open, and make my way out into the hall. I can hear a shower running and I guess it must be coming from Josie’s room. Her bedroom door is open, too, and I wander over, gasping when I see she hasn’t closed the bathroom door, either. I guess she must have done that so she could hear me, but I’ve got no intention of being heard, and I stand, leaning against the doorframe…

She’s facing away from me, at a slight angle, so I can see the swell of her breast and the curve of her ass. The sunlight from the open window catches in the pouring water, glistening off of her silky skin, like stardust, and snatching the breath from my lungs.

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life and, my headache forgotten, my cock hardens, straining against my trunks.

I turn, feeling guilty for watching her, and I lean back against the wall beside the door, wondering if this is how I’d normally behave, or whether I’m the kind of man who’d walk in there and claim her. The question is still there… what kind of lover am I? Am I a man who has relationships? Or do I prefer one-night stands? I know there’s a difference… just like I know there’s a difference between fucking and making love. I rub my hand along the length of my cock and contemplate a one-night stand with Josie, shuddering against the thought. It would be impossible. I couldn’t do it. Even if that’s who I was before, I couldn’t be like that with her. Just like I know I need to eat, to drink, to sleep, I know I need more than one night with her.

I need forever.

What I don’t know is how Drew Bennett would go about making that happen.

“Does that matter?” I whisper to myself.

Surely, I can do whatever I want now. I can be whoever I want to be. If that happens to be the same as Drew Bennett, then so be it. But if not…

I hear the shower shut off and let my hand drop to my side. I can’t let her find me here… not in my current state of arousal, so I go back to my bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the cover over, so my erection is hidden from view.

Within a few minutes, Josie appears in the doorway, a cream-colored fluffy towel wrapped around her, just above her breasts, covering her to mid-way down her thighs.

“You’re awake?”

“Yes.”

I look her up and down, unable to help myself. “Sorry,” she says. “I felt like a shower.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I should have been here when you woke up.”

“It’s okay.”

She takes a half step forward. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better, but I could use some more painkillers, if I’m allowed?”

“Um… I don’t know what the time is.” She ducks away, returning within moments, still wrapped in the towel, I’m pleased to say. “I can let you have some more. Just give me five minutes to get dressed.”

I’d like to tell her not to bother, but I can’t. If I was moving too fast for her this morning, I doubt anything will have changed in just a few hours.

I stare at the door, wishing she’d come back, wondering if it’s always been this way for me… if I’ve always been this dependent, or whether I’m just feeling this lost because I’m sick…

I hear her footsteps, holding my breath, and then capturing the gasp before it leaves my mouth as she reappears in the doorway.

That’s when I realize I’m not dependent at all. And this has nothing to do with being sick.

I’m not lost either.

I’m in love.

She walks over, carrying a glass of water and clutching two more tablets in her hand, which she holds out to me. Her hair is damp and loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing jeans, and another of her skin-tight t-shirts… a pale yellow one.

I swallow down the tablets and then sip at the water while Josie pulls my bed back into shape.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” She takes the glass from me, putting it on the nightstand. “Now… get back into bed.”

I do as she says, lying back on the pillows and looking up at her as she pulls the covers over me. She turns, but I grab her hand, holding on to her.

“Stay, Josie… please?”

She nods her head and sits beside me, and I keep hold of her hand, staring at her beautiful face until my eyes close…