Chapter Seven

Josie

It’s hard to recognize the man sitting across from me at the breakfast table. He’s so different to the man who lay in his bed yesterday, his eyes closed against the light, his face pale and drawn. Today, the color has returned to his cheeks and the sparkle to his eyes. He hasn’t asked why Hunter summoned me so abruptly yesterday and I’m relieved by that, because I don’t know how I’d explain it… other than to lie. Again. And I really don’t want to do that.

As for what happened when I got back here…

When I found him lying on the floor, I didn’t know what to do. I tried to be a nurse, to check his vital signs and stay calm. But my heart was beating so hard, I couldn’t tell his pulse from mine. When I called his name and he didn’t respond, it took every ounce of strength and willpower not to panic.

It was my fault. He was my responsibility, and I’d let him down. As I was calling his name over and over, squeezing his hand and rubbing his chest, I knew I’d never forgive myself, even if he came round… which he did. Eventually.

When he said his head hurt, my first thought was that he’d hit it when he’d fallen. Had he tripped, or stumbled? If only I’d been here…

Once he made it clear the headache had been there before the fall, I realized it was connected to the concussion. It wasn’t an additional problem, but a legacy one.

I still should have been here, watching him, caring for him. But I knew I could beat myself up later. Getting him up off of the floor was the most important priority. Only there was no way I could do that by myself. I needed help.

So I called Hunter.

He came running… and I mean running. He was slightly out of breath when he arrived, and he brought Ella’s fiancé with him, which showed he was thinking more clearly than I was.

Between them, they got Drew up the stairs and into his bedroom, and I took over from there. I could have left him in his jeans and t-shirt, but he’d broken a picture frame when he’d fallen, shattering the glass. It would have been easy for tiny fragments of it to be lodged in his clothing, and it was much safer to remove it. His t-shirt was easy enough, but I had a little more difficulty with his jeans… although I managed it in the end, lying him on the bed and tugging them off.

As I pulled the covers over him, I felt lost. I needed to draw strength from him, but he was sapped by pain. It was too much to ask him to be strong for me, too.

I apologized for leaving him and he opened his eyes, squinting against the light, focusing on my face, then he reached out and touched my cheek with his fingertips.

“It’s not your fault, Josie. I’ll be okay.”

It was like he knew I needed to hear that… needed the reassurance.

I felt a lump form in my throat, tears pricking behind my eyes, but it was unfair to cry in front of him. “I’ll let you rest.”

“No… don’t go. Please.”

I swallowed down my emotions. I could cry later. I edged backwards, feeling the heat of his body through the covers and taking comfort from that… from the nearness of him as his eyes fluttered closed again.

I stayed with him for ages, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the occasional flinch from the pain I guessed was still rampaging through his head. He settled eventually, though, and I stood, pulling up the covers, and bent, gently kissing his forehead. He didn’t even stir. I didn’t mind. The kiss was for my benefit, not his.

I left him to sleep, going downstairs for a while. The living room was tidy, the broken glass all cleared away, and I poured myself a glass of orange juice and tried reading a book to relax. It didn’t work. Drew might have only been upstairs, but I found it odd, being in his home without him. It made me feel restless, so I gave up with the book and went back up to my room, checking on Drew as I passed. He was still sound asleep, but I left my bedroom door open to be on the safe side, and laid down on the mattress, letting my head sink into the soft pillows.

As far as I was aware, that headache had come out of nowhere, but if it proved one thing, it was that I needed to keep a closer eye on him. I also needed to stop him from trying to remember. That was obviously what he’d been doing. The broken photograph was evidence enough of that. I could understand him wanting to know, but if this was going to be the result, I needed to find other things to keep him occupied.

I also wondered then if his headache had anything to do with what had happened between us earlier in the morning. It felt like a lifetime ago, but he’d been upset by my response – or lack of it – that much was clear.

Was I even more to blame? Should I just have let him act on his emotions… and mine?

It would have been so easy. I’d yearned to feel his lips on mine for such a long time. But there was still so much to be said… to be revealed.

I took a shower to freshen up, leaving the bathroom door open in case Drew called out for anything.

He didn’t, but when I came out, having wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, I thought it best to check on him and was surprised to find he was awake and in need of painkillers.

Once I’d got dressed and fetched them for him, he swallowed them down and got back into bed, before he asked me to stay. No. He begged me to stay.

I couldn’t refuse… not a plea like that. So I sat beside him, our hands locked, our eyes fixed, until he drifted off to sleep again.

“Are you okay?” Drew’s words jolt me back to reality and I stare across the breakfast table at him.

“Of course. I was just… um…”

“You were thinking about yesterday, weren’t you?” he says, shaking his head without a trace of pain. “I wish you’d stop beating yourself up over it.”

“How did you know I was?” I ask.

“Because I know you.”

“You can’t say that.”

He smiles. “Yes, I can. As far as I’m concerned, my life only started a few days ago, when I woke up in the hospital. You’ve been the one constant for me since then, and even if you haven’t told me very much about yourself, I still feel like I know you better than I know anyone else.”

He’s obviously noticed how reticent I’ve been to part with any details about my private life. What he doesn’t know is why. What he can’t hope to understand is that our lives are already intertwined. Or how. And I can’t tell him that. I wish I could, but I can’t.

“I should have been here,” I say instead.

“I wish you had been.” He smiles. “But failing that, I should have been resting, not wandering around the house, trying to remember things.”

“Oh? So you’ve worked that out, have you?”

“If you mean, have I finally heard what you’ve been saying, and realized it’s better for me to let my memories come back naturally, then the answer is, yes. At least, I’m gonna try. I can’t guarantee I won’t still ask questions, because it’s hard not to, when everything is such a mystery.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I just don’t want another repeat of yesterday.”

“It was painful, wasn’t it?” I ask.

“Yes, and it felt like a setback, too. But it’s more than that.” He takes a deep breath. “You were scared, Josie. I could see it in your eyes, and I didn’t like being responsible for that.”

He saw through me so easily? “I—I…”

He holds up his hand, and I stop talking. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

That’s good, because I’m not sure I can without giving myself away.

He picks up his cup, swallowing down the last of his coffee. “Shall we go for a walk? I could use some fresh air.”

“We could… or you could maybe have a swim, if you like.” That way we won’t have to talk, and there won’t be a repeat of yesterday’s embarrassing situation.

“A swim? Am I up to that?”

“As long as you don’t push yourself too hard.”

“How do we know I can swim?” he says, tilting his head.

“We don’t. But I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“What? Throw me in and see if I drown?”

“No. I was thinking more about taking you over there and letting you try it out for yourself.”

He looks out the window, in the vague direction of the pool. “You’ll come with me?”

“Of course. I just said…”

He turns to face me, his eyes twinkling with a mischief that makes my insides melt. “No. I mean, you’ll come into the pool?”

My cheeks redden under his gaze. This was supposed to be less embarrassing than yesterday, but at the moment, it feels so much worse. “I—I thought I’d stay on the side.”

He shakes his head. “I think you should come into the water with me. What if I have a dizzy spell, or my headache comes back?”

“Then I’ll be right there.”

“Yeah. But it’ll be safer if you’re in the pool, won’t it?”

I know I’m beaten. His smile is enough to do that to me, although I keep telling myself that just because we’ll be in the pool together doesn’t mean we’ll have to talk. “If you insist.”

“I think I do,” he says, then he pauses, his smile widening. “Do you have a swimsuit?”

“Yes. When your brother said there was a pool here, I thought it wise to bring one, just in case.”

“Oh… that’s a shame.”

“Why? I thought you wanted me to come with you.”

“I do.”

He stares at me until the penny drops, and I feel myself blush – yet again. I don’t know why I’m bothering to plan things that will make it easier for me to be with him and not want him. How can I deny the way I feel about him? And why should I? I’ve wanted him for so long… and regardless of all the arguments against us being together, surely something that feels this good can’t be wrong, can it?

Can it?

I get to my feet, picking up the plates, but he stands too and grabs my arm across the table. “I know I said I’d let my memories take care of themselves, but can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

I put down the plates again, studying his perfect face. “Do you think I was a flirt? Before, I mean… before the accident?”

I know perfectly well that he was. He flirted with me when we first met, and I liked it. I can remember the way he made me feel, just by looking at me… although I don’t need to remember, because he’s doing it again now. Except I can’t tell him that.

“I don’t know.” It’s another deception, and I feel guilty for it, even though I know it’s for his own good. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I feel like I want to flirt.”

I step back, forcing him to release my arm, and I struggle not to stagger, holding onto the table to right myself. “Y—You want to flirt? With women?” I’m not sure who else he’d want to flirt with, but I can’t disguise my shock… and my disappointment.

“Not with women in general, no. Just with you.”

I’m in even more danger of falling now, but I gaze up into his eyes, catching my breath. “I—I see.”

“Shall we forget about clearing away for now and go for a swim instead?”

“Okay. Maybe we should put on our costumes underneath our clothes. It’ll make things easier when we get over there.”

“If you insist.”

I’m not sure I’m capable of insisting on anything, but I lead the way to the stairs, and he follows.

“Oh… it looks like there’s a pool house.” And it appears to be large enough for changing rooms, too. We needn’t have bothered putting our costumes on, after all.

“Yeah, but I suppose neither of us was to know that, were we?” Drew yanks off his t-shirt over his head.

I’ve brought towels from the cottage and I put them down on one of the loungers by the pool, slipping out of my shorts and top. When I turn around, Drew’s already taken off his jeans and is standing in just his swim shorts, which do very little to hide his arousal.

“Sorry,” he says, although the smile twitching at his lips is more playful than contrite. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that.”

I decide it’s best not to make a fuss, but to treat it like an everyday occurrence. “I know. That’s one advantage of being a nurse. I get how it works. It’s a natural reaction.” I need to stop talking. I might not be making a fuss, but I’m rambling.

He steps closer, making my goose-bumped skin tingle with anticipation. “Yes, but do you know what it’s a natural reaction to?” I can’t speak. My lips won’t function and my mouth has gone dry. “I’ll tell you, shall I?” he says. “It’s a reaction to you. You must have noticed in the hospital that I was always hard whenever you were around?”

“Y—Yes, I did.”

“Well… nothing’s changed. It’s what happens whenever I’m near you, or when I think about you, or hear your voice.”

I stare up into his eyes, trying not to get lost in them, or his words, because I need to know… “Do you remember why you’re reacting like that?”

“Yes, and no.” That’s not what I’d hoped to hear and I can’t hide my dismay. If he can’t recall what this is all about, there’s no hope for us… if there’s even an ‘us’ to hope for. “Hey… don’t look so sad.” He reaches out, cupping my face with his hand. “It won’t be a problem.”

“But if you can’t remember…”

“It won’t matter. You won’t have to break your rules and explain it to me.” That’s good, because I wouldn’t be able to. He smiles. “This is an instinct, Josie. It’s a bone-deep instinct to be inside you.” I gasp, unable to hold it in, and he steps closer, looking right down at me. “I know I made you feel uncomfortable yesterday morning, and I apologize for that, even though I don’t know exactly what I did wrong. You see, not knowing who I am means I don’t know how I’d normally go about this. All I is know is, it can’t be wrong to want you… unless you don’t feel the same…” His voice fades and I long to reach out to him, to tell him I’ve felt the same for longer than he’s been aware of knowing me. Except that’s the problem, isn’t it? Even if this feels too good to be true, and even if denying him is tearing me apart, we’re too bound up in secrets and deceptions. All of them mine.

He steps back, releasing me, and nods his head.

“Drew?”

“It’s okay.”

Without another word, he steps down into the pool and dives under the water, and although I want to call him back, I can’t.

***

Drew

I handled it all wrong by the pool yesterday. I know I did.

Obviously, there was nothing I could do to hide my erection. Josie had just peeled off her shorts and top, and was standing in front of me, wearing nothing more than a one-piece swimsuit, in a pale blue fabric, with a butterfly print. It had high-cut legs which showed off her toned thighs, and the neckline was revealing enough to make my cock ache. What was I supposed to do?

Maybe ignore my obvious arousal? How? When she was staring at me, her eyes alight with longing. Because they were. I might not know very much, but I knew what that look meant. It was another of those instincts. In this case, one that told me she liked what she saw.

Perhaps I should have found another way of telling Josie how much I want her, though.

Because being open about it didn’t seem to work.

I sit back on the couch, feeling confused… not just because Josie’s insisted on clearing away the breakfast things all by herself, sending me in here ‘to rest’, but also because her silence at the pool yesterday was too loud to ignore. If she was just admiring, but didn’t want me in the same way I want her, why didn’t she say so? Why did she ask if I knew why I was aroused in that voice that was too tempting for words? And if she wanted me, why didn’t she do something? All it would have taken was a step in my direction. Instead of which she neither moved nor spoke. And that’s why I’m so confused… because I really thought she liked me. At least enough to be honest with me.

The signs were there… or I thought they were.

Take the day of my fall as an example. She seemed really upset by that. I heard the crack in her voice… saw the fear in her eyes. It wasn’t a figment of my imagination. I even I told her I’d noticed it, and didn’t like how it had made me feel. She didn’t deny her reactions, either, and although she hesitated over explaining them, I didn’t mind. As far as I was concerned, it was enough just to know she cared. Because she did. I could feel it.

She also seemed hurt yesterday, when I asked her if I was a flirt, and she assumed I was thinking of flirting with other women… as if that’s ever going to happen. I was close enough to hear her breath catch in her throat, to see her struggling to swallow, when I told her I didn’t want to flirt with anyone but her. Stupidly, I thought her response meant something. I assumed it meant she didn’t like the idea of me flirting with anyone else. But evidently not.

I got it wrong… again.

If her reaction at the pool was any kind of indication, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I must have mis-read the signs, or over-reacted to them.

Maybe they weren’t signs at all, and my brain is just too muddled still to know what’s going on.

Let’s face it, how am I supposed to understand Josie when I don’t understand myself?

And, more importantly, what am I supposed to do about it?

I’ve agreed not to keep trying to recapture my memories… not because it hurt, as Josie suggested, but because I couldn’t bear to see the fear in her eyes, knowing I’d put it there. I love her. It’s my job to keep her safe, and if doing that means I have to wait a little longer to find myself, then I’ll do it.

I’ll do anything… once I work out what ‘anything’ is in Josie’s world.

The problem is, we’ve hardly spoken since yesterday morning. We were only in the pool for about thirty minutes in the end. I found it difficult being that close to her, and Josie was so embarrassed, she couldn’t look me in the eye. It seemed easier to give up on the idea of swimming, so we came back to the cottage. Once we were here, though, we went to separate rooms. Josie suggested I should rest in my bedroom for a while, and she stayed downstairs. It was probably for the best in the circumstances. In the afternoon, she did some of those picture exercises with me, but we limited our conversation to the necessary comments, and afterwards, she went to take a shower. I tried not to picture her, although it was hard, having such a fresh recollection of exactly how she’d look, and when she came down again, she insisted on cooking… by herself. Needless to say, the atmosphere between us is so tense, you could cut it with a knife, and I know that’s my fault.

I can’t undo the things I did yesterday, or unsay the things I said. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. Cupping her face in my hand and gazing into her eyes felt right, and so did telling her what she does to me… how she makes me feel.

I meant every word, too… except one.

She hadn’t replied to me, but she looked so pained, and I told her it was okay, even though it wasn’t. It was a white lie, but I couldn’t tell her how much her silence hurt.

“Shall we go for a walk? You need some exercise.”

Her voice makes me jump and I turn to see she’s standing in the archway to the kitchen, looking across at me. There’s something sad behind her eyes and I want to ask her about it, although I think it’s best if I don’t. I doubt it’ll end well.

“If you like.”

I stand, noting she’s already wearing her flat pumps. I’ve got my shoes on, too, so I head for the door, stepping outside.

“Um… Drew?”

I spin around. She’s standing with her hands in her pockets, near the foot of the stairs.

“Yes?”

“I think there’s a camera somewhere, isn’t there?” she says.

“There is. It’s upstairs.”

She nods her head. “Why don’t you bring it?”

I don’t know why she’s suggesting that. Maybe so we don’t have to talk, or if we do, we can talk about photography, rather than each other.

“Sure. If you want me to.”

She doesn’t reply, and I step back into the cottage, frowning as she moves back the moment I put my foot on the bottom step. Is she so indifferent to me she doesn’t want me anywhere near her?

That thought makes my chest hurt, and as I climb, I wonder how I’m supposed to do this. How am I supposed to switch off my feelings for her?

I wander through to the office and look down at the camera bag, trying to decide whether to take the whole thing. Except it’s large and cumbersome, so I grab the camera and make my way back down the stairs.

Josie has her back to me and is straightening the throw on the back of the couch, bending over slightly to give me a perfect view of her glorious ass.

Why was I thinking about switching off my feelings for her?

That’s the last thing I want to do.

We’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, neither of us saying a word. I’m carrying the camera, and Josie seems intent on making sure there’s at least a foot of space between us, which hurts.

She didn’t do this the last time we walked together. We held hands then, so clearly something has changed. I just wish I could work out what, and why… and how to put it back to where it was.

And why this has to be so fucking complicated… as if my life wasn’t complicated enough already.

“How does it feel?”

I turn and look down at her, although neither of us breaks our stride. Josie’s got her hands in her pockets and is staring up at me, her eyebrows raised.

“How does what feel?” It hurts to know you can’t even bear to hold my hand, but I doubt that’s what you’re asking .

“The camera,” she says, nodding down at it. “How does it feel to hold it?”

I stop walking, and she does, too. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“No. I’m asking a question.”

A weighted one, but a question, I’ll grant her. I raise the camera, holding it in both hands. “It feels okay.”

“Take a picture with it, then.”

I remove the lens cover, which hangs from a short cord, and lift the camera to my face, looking through the viewfinder directly at her. The sun is shimmering off of her hair, and although there’s still that sadness behind her eyes, she’s too beautiful for words. Except behind her, in the distance, is the building on the far side of the grounds. There’s nothing wrong with it. As buildings go, it’s quite attractive, but even though it’s out of focus, it spoils the composition.

I lower the camera and grab her hand.

“What are you doing?”

“If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it properly.”

I glance around, spying a nearby tree, and pull Josie over to it, standing her in front of the wide trunk. I step away, but there’s still something wrong.

“Lean back.”

“Against the tree?”

“Yes.”

She does as I say and I look at her through the viewfinder again. The sunlight is dappled now, gentler, but she’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I take a single picture, clicking the shutter.

“Now… tilt your head.”

“Which way?”

“Your left… no, not that far.” She adjusts the slant of her head and I snap two more photographs before I lie down on the ground.

“What are you doing down there?”

“Getting a different angle,” I say. “Don’t look at me.”

“Okay. What should I look at then?”

“Whatever you were looking at before.”

She smiles. “I was looking at you, Drew. You’re the one with the camera.”

“Okay. Look at the place where I was standing.”

“Even though you’re not there?”

“Yes. And don’t smile.”

“What do you want me to do, then?” She looks confused, but just as that fades to something a little more enigmatic, I take the shot.

“Perfect.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.”

She shakes her head, and I click the shutter again. “That one’s even better.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure.”

I get up, brushing grass from my jeans and wander over to her, adjusting the camera setting so we can view the pictures on the screen.

“You knew how to do that?” she says, looking up at me.

“It seems so.”

I hold the camera between us, our heads bent together, and I scroll through the images. In the first one, she’s looking right at me, and I swear to God, there’s something in her eyes that isn’t sadness. I don’t know what it is, though, and I can’t read too much into a single photograph. In the second and third images, her head is tilted, although the look is still there. Then I move on, hearing Josie’s gasp when she sees the fourth shot. I don’t blame her. She looks even better than I thought she would… and as for the next one…

“Oh, my God.”

“What?” I turn to look at her. She’s staring at me, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted.

“How did you do that? How did you know that one would be better than the last? You didn’t look at them at all while you were taking them… so how did you know?”

“Instinct, I guess.”

“Instinct?” she says.

“Yes. You haven’t told me if I’m a professional photographer, but I think I might be.”

“Is that a memory, or a question?”

“I didn’t ask a question. I stated a fact… or at least a thought,” I say, holding up the camera, although I don’t take my eyes from hers. “It’s like I know what I’m doing with this, which is more than I can say for you.”

“I’m not gonna deny it. I don’t know the first thing about cameras.”

I shake my head. “No, you don’t understand. I meant, I don’t know what I’m doing with you. You’ve bewitched me, body and soul, Josie, and sometimes I feel like you’re the only solid foundation I’ve got. Then, at other times, I feel like you’ve cast me off… left me drifting. Except I’m not strong enough to survive. Not by myself. I don’t even know if you like me…”

“I like you,” she says and I suck in a breath, stepping a little closer to her.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“In what way? I mean… do you like me as a fellow human being? Or do you like me as a man who’s told you he’s longing to be inside you? There’s a difference, Josie – even I know that – and I need to understand it. I need to understand you.” She doesn’t say a word, but continues to stare at me, blinking once or twice, looking lost herself. “You see… this is where it gets complicated for me. When you go silent on me like this, I don’t know what to do or what to think.”

I lower the camera to my side and move closer still, so there’s maybe an inch of space between us. I can feel her breath mingling with mine, even though time has stood still… for both of us, I think. The lost look on her face is worrying, but she hasn’t stepped back. I know I could take her silence as rejection yet again, but this doesn’t feel like rejection… not this time. It feels like she doesn’t know what to do.

So maybe I should do it for her… and if I’m wrong, she’ll stop me.

Right?

I have to be right, because there’s no way I can step back, and we can’t just stand here forever.

“Oh, to hell with it.”

I grab the back of her neck, holding her still, and I bend my head, covering her lips with mine. She lets out a very slight yelp, and although I half expect her to pull back, she doesn’t, and I take advantage of the moment to explore her with my tongue. Her yelp becomes a moan, and then a sigh, and as I whisper her name into her mouth, I put my other arm around her waist, pulling her closer. I’m still holding the camera, but that doesn’t stop me from crushing her body to mine, letting her feel my arousal. She sighs again, a little louder, and her fingers creep up my arms, her hands resting on my biceps, like she’s clinging on… like she needs me.

Oh, please… let that be true.