Chapter 22
“I was going to give this to you that night,” he explains.
I eye the box like it’s full of poisonous spiders. “I can’t take that,” I reply, stepping back. He raises an eyebrow.
“You know what’s in it,” he accuses me with an incredulous smirk. He clucks his tongue in admonishment. “I never took you for a snooper.”
“I’m not,” I protest indignantly. “I was looking for a place to put something for you.”
“Ah,” he responds. “Did you read the inscription too, then?” I shake my head. He opens the box, and the ring sparkles brilliantly, shooting rainbow reflections across the room. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, angling it so I can read the elegant script written on the inside of the band. “What have I always told you?” His voice is soft, filled with love and longing.
I look up into his eyes. I don’t need to read it. The words are etched onto my broken heart. “Never forget how much I love you,” I whisper. He’s right. He remembers the important stuff. A tear finds its way down my cheek, remembering all the nights I fell asleep remembering those words, wishing he would too. And now he has.
Bryce sets the ring back in the box and rounds the kitchen counter, coming to stand beside me. And despite him standing before me, it all feels unreal. “That’s right,” he replies. “Did you forget, Sera?” I close my eyes and shake my head.
“This all would have been much easier if I had,” I reply honestly. I feel his finger slip beneath my chin, tugging it up in a familiar motion. I open my eyes and look at him.
“I know,” he says softly. “And I can’t undo that pain. But I remember you, finally, if not every detail of our life. But I remember this.”
He drops his lips to mine, and it’s more than familiar. The fire in his kiss is the fire in me that I thought had long since died. The fire that burned between us all those months ago. I burn with it, letting the feeling spread through me as his lips claim mine, truly, once again.
He pulls back, stroking a finger along my face, nuzzling his nose against mine as he used to do. “Do you believe me, that I remember you? Really remember you?” His eyes search mine deeply, begging me to accept him, to trust him.
The dam inside me breaks, emotions flooding my entire being. I nod, tears in my eyes. “Yes.” It’s all I can manage before needing to feel his lips on me again. I let the force of his mouth on mine drive away all the doubts, all the fear, all the pain I’ve felt. I can feel his own struggles melting in the purifying fire that burns between us. I can feel in his touch, in the response of my own body, how lost we’ve both been without this connection.
When our mouths part finally, I’m breathless and dizzy, and hopeful.
“So I guess that means you are still in love with me?” Bryce asks teasingly.
I press my knuckles into his strong chest and push myself backward a step. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I tease back.
Bryce leans back against the counter, as in control as he ever was, now refusing to rise to my bait. His eyes flick to the clock on the microwave. “What I’d really like to know is if you’ll let me take you to dinner tonight,” he replies seriously.
I chew on my lip. My brain is still catching up, and I fight off the instincts I’ve been using to protect myself these past months. “Okay,” I reply. “As long as there are no elevators.”
Bryce snorts. “Deal,” he agrees. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need to leave. I have to go into work today. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Deal,” I echo. He heads out of the kitchen, and I don’t miss that he grabs the little black box, sliding it into his pocket on his way to the door.
I make to reach for the knob, but he shakes his head, stepping forward and using his bulk to pin me against the back of the door. He slides his hands over my hips, gripping me tightly and pressing himself into me. I breathe deeply of his scent before I look up at him.
As soon as I do, his lips capture mine, gently, sweetly, his tongue slipping between my lips, searching. It caresses mine lightly for a moment before he pulls away. And with another nuzzle of his nose, he’s done, stepping back so I can open the door.
“I missed you so much,” he says intently. “But I’ll see you soon.”
I nod. “Bye, Bryce.”
“Bye, Sera.”
Once he’s gone I spend the rest of the day convincing myself it wasn’t a dream. Well, except when I go back upstairs to yell at Hunter some more as I’d planned to do before Bryce showed up.
Just before seven I’m waiting nervously on the couch, constantly running my hands over my blue wrap dress, anxiously tapping my high heels against the wooden base of the couch.
By five after I’m sure it was a dream, or that it was temporary, and his mind has slipped back to where it was, when he didn’t know he’d loved me.
And by the time the doorbell rings at ten after, I’m practically in hysterics, having already fully convinced myself that he wasn’t going to show up. Feeling ridiculous, I try to breathe deeply as I go to pull the door open. But it pops open in front of me, Bryce having unlocked it himself.
“Sorry I’m late,” he announces, pocketing his keys. “But hey, I just remembered I still have a key.”
An ugly sob rips out of me. He looks up and notices the anguish on my face. And he’s there, holding me in an instant. “I’m sorry,” I blubber, the tears pouring out. “It just seemed too good to be true. And then you were late, and I …”
“Shhhh,” he says, stroking my hair. “It’s okay, I’m here.” I sniff loudly, trying my hardest to rein in the crazy. When I feel like the panic has subsided, I pull away, wiping at his ruined shirt.
“I’m sorry I got you all messy,” I grumble. Bryce forces my chin up with a finger, looking down with sparkling eyes.
“You know you can get me messy anytime,” he murmurs suggestively. I smile feebly, not really in the mood to flirt.
“I’m not sure if I can do this,” I admit.
Bryce shrugs. “We can stay here and eat then,” he replies. I press out of his arms and stride back to the living room, sinking defeatedly onto the couch.
“No,” I respond with a sigh. I gesture between us. “This.”
Bryce is so still for a moment that it makes me even more nervous than I already am. Then, he quietly takes his black suit jacket off and lays it over the back of one of the dining room chairs. He calmly rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, still stained with my wet tears and a little bit of my makeup.
He saunters coolly up to me, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of me. He unfolds my arms from around my midsection, gathering my hands in his.
“You’ve spent the better part of a year living in a world where I didn’t remember you. I get that,” he admits. “So if this is all too fast, too much, I get that too. I’m just so fucking glad you hadn’t moved on, Sera, you have no idea. But if you need time, or space, then we can do this slow. I told you once that I wanted us to move at your pace. And I stick to that.”
“God, Bryce, I didn’t even remember your saying that until you just reminded me,” I reply incredulously. “This is for real, isn’t it? Your memories are really coming back.”
He pushes up and slides onto the couch next to me, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been a slow trickle, all day,” he confesses. “Like the memories were just waiting for a crack of light to know where they could get out. You’re that light, Sera. From the moment I met you, something inside me knew you. Knew that we belonged together. And even after I lost my memories of you, even though I was trying to do the right thing, the safe thing, something in me still knew it was wrong. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I didn’t start to get full memories back until I was with you again. Really with you, and not distracted by …”
“Please for the love of all that’s good don’t say her name,” I interrupt. “In this house she shall forever be known as ‘she who shall not be named,’ got it?”
Bryce smirks. “My point is,” he says, “I’m still solidly on the side of the line where I’ll take as much of you as I can get.”
And that one I remember. It’s one of the things he said to me the first night we both confessed our love for each other. I scowl jokingly at him. “Well now you’re just showing off,” I scoff.
He grins, his true sunshine smile. “Is it working?” he asks eagerly.
And I laugh. “It’s working,” I assure him. “And while I can’t promise there won’t be times this all still scares the shit out of me, I’m in.” Slowly, a smile creeps across Bryce’s face until he’s grinning again.
“All in?” he asks, running a hand down my arm.
“All in,” I confirm, allowing the tingling sensation his fingers leave behind to stir me.
“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Prove it.” I chuckle and raise an eyebrow.
“And how exactly would you like me to do that?” I ask. Though I have a suspicion.
His eyes flick down my body. “Take off your dress,” he replies. And despite the thrill that runs through me at his words, I have to give him the “not a chance in hell” look.
“You do realize that my younger brother lives here now and will probably walk through that door with his boyfriend — one of my coworkers — at any moment now, right?” I remind him.
“Shit,” Bryce curses. “No, you hadn’t mentioned he actually lives here. Or the other bit.”
“So you thought he was just hanging out here at six o’clock in the morning?” I tease.
He shrugs. “I was distracted. You weren’t wearing a bra,” he defends himself.
I roll my eyes. “Men. I swear.”
“Okay, fine. Get your gorgeous ass upstairs, then take off your dress,” he amends, rising and offering a hand. I take it, pulling myself up.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I ask. He drops his mouth to my ear.
“Not for food,” he murmurs, his deep voice tickling my ear, causing heat to instantly pool between my legs.
“I thought we were going to go slow,” I reply, slightly breathlessly. He laughs.
“I said we’d go at your pace,” he corrects me. “So if you don’t want to go there, we won’t.” He takes a step back, but it doesn’t stop what he’s already put in motion.
“You fight dirty, Bryce Hoyt,” I reply shaking my head. But even looking at him is too much. I feel silly that a few light touches and suggestive words have me this worked up. Though I have to allow that it’s been a very long time.
“You know you like it,” he replies with a wink. But I pull a page out of his book and put on my best poker face, shrugging noncommittally. I stroll casually past him, to the bottom of the stairs, knowing the wall that’s now between me and the front door will shield me if needs be.
And as if I’m simply getting ready to take a shower, I untie the front panel of my dress, opening it like a robe and letting it fall to the ground behind me. Leaving me standing there in lacy, black lingerie that leaves nothing to the imagination.
A small moan escapes through his parted lips. “I guess we will be eating out after all,” I say lightly, turning and heading up the stairs, biting my lip to keep a shit-eating grin from breaking across my face. And giving him a full view of my backside.
But as my foot hits the third step I hear the front door open. Bryce’s head whips toward it, open mouthed. And then he makes a break for the stairs as I start to flee up them. He reaches down to grab my dress on the way.
“Leave it,” I hiss. He gives me a funny look but chases me quickly up the stairs. I burst into my bedroom, giggling, Bryce toppling in after me. And I quickly slam the door behind him.
“Why’d you want me to leave the dress?” he asks. I grab his hand, pulling him to the bed. The thrill of almost being caught has my adrenaline pumping.
“So I didn’t have to leave a sock on the doorknob,” I tease. When I feel my legs bump against the edge of the bed, I pull him to me, having to rise on my toes even in heels to kiss him.
And he takes no time returning the kiss and then some, lifting me up and laying me gently at the head of the bed. It’s the last gentle thing he does.
I can feel the impatience in his kiss, the hunger. His mouth and tongue work with mine furiously, his hands kneading and working down my body roughly until he slips one hand between my legs, shoving my panties to the side and using his whole hand to stroke me. He lets out a low moan into my mouth when he feels how ready I am. His hand continues its work as his mouth cuts a path down my body to meet it, leaving a scorching trail wherever he kisses, licks, and nips.
And before his tongue even finds its final mark, I’m panting and moaning and gripping the bedspread, my hips rearing off the bed like they have a mind of their own. He sets a furious pace, as if he plans to consume me bodily, his tongue and fingers working forcefully to unleash the pent-up energy now roiling between my legs. And I don’t know where the feverish sting of anticipation ends, and his hot, deft mouth begins. But in what feels like seconds I’m coming so hard I think I might pass out from the sheer effort it takes to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. As I descend, he yields, and I stop holding it all in, letting my breath out in a great sigh.
But he moves up to cover my mouth with his once more, his taste now mixed with mine. Combined with the ferocity of his need, I’m plunged back into a dizzy frenzy. I barely register his hand as it works quickly between us to free his manhood before he nudges into me, sinking deeply. As he’s still fully clothed, the sudden and unexpected move causes me to gasp in surprise. But he doesn’t relent. He wraps an arm around me, bracing himself with the other, and pounds into me fiercely. It’s only slightly painful for a moment before it’s something so much more.
I throw my head back, not bothering or perhaps unable to stem the moans pouring from my throat as he rides me. As mine did, his climax comes quickly, the groans emanating from him rising rapidly to a crescendo. He shudders over me finally, then sinks into my embrace, still fully buried inside of me. His mouth finds mine once more, his desire still obvious, but the demanding edge now gone. Like a raging inferno dying to a low, slow flame.
When we break apart, he lets out a laugh. “I haven’t fucked that fast since high school.” He glances down at his watch. “We could probably still even make our reservation.”
“Seriously?” I ask. He throws me a mock sharp look, then laughs.
“No,” he admits.
I run a hand over his chest, wishing I’d gotten to see him naked. It’s something I’ve dreamt of frequently. “It was quite different,” I remark, looking at him from under my eyelashes. “But in a good way. Obviously, I was just as turned on as you were.”
“It was more that that,” he replies huskily, looking deeply into my eyes. “While I was going down on you, I remembered things. Doing that to you before. Doing other things to you before. You doing things to me. It took all of my strength to let you finish. So it’s a damn good thing it didn’t take you long either, or I may have exploded in my pants. Also something I haven’t done since high school.” His lips settle into a wry smile.
“Well, while I hope you eventually remember more than just our sex life,” I reply. “Right now, all I can remember is that I’m starving.” My stomach rumbles loudly as if to prove my point and Bryce laughs.
“Then I guess you’d best clean up and find something else to wear,” he suggests, reaching down to put his clothing back to rights. “Because as much as I’d love to watch you walk around in that sexy lingerie all night, I don’t think your brother and his boyfriend would care much for it.”
The reminder that they were likely here for our escapades makes me blush furiously. “Oh, god, they probably heard us,” I whisper. Bryce laughs.
“I’m sure you’ve heard them,” he replies with a shrug. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
But as I dress, I sill can’t shake the embarrassment. I pick a pair of dark leggings and an emerald green sweater with a high neckline. At least fully covered I feel slightly less, well, exposed. We exit the bedroom, Bryce following behind me, and I say a little prayer that they didn’t hear, or have already left again, as we descend the stairs.
As soon as I see Hunter and Graham, though, I know I’m out of luck. On both counts. The looks on their faces clearly say they heard it all. As we hit the bottom stair, I quickly retrieve the discarded wrap dress, tossing it self-consciously into the coat closet next to the stairs.
“Hey, guys,” I say, attempting nonchalance. “You remember Bryce.” Bryce gives a little wave and goes into the kitchen and starts rifling through the fridge. They wave back, mystified.
“Whatcha doin?” I ask him as I wander in after him.
“Making dinner. Go sit down,” he replies calmly with his head still in the fridge.
“Are you sure?” I ask tentatively. He straightens up and fixes me with a look.
“Yes. I used to live here, remember?” he teases.
“Yes, as I matter of fact, I do remember that. But the better question is, do you?” I tease back. He narrows his eyes at me.
“As a matter of fact, I think I do,” he replies saucily. I laugh.
“All right, then,” I reply. “I’ll be in the living room.” He gives me a quick peck on the cheek, then swats me on the behind.
I join Hunter and Graham in the living room, folding myself self-consciously into my favorite chair.
“Thank god,” Hunter immediately says to me. “We saw the clothes and heard, well, you know. And I thought you might have gotten back with …” he drops his voice to a whisper, “the Italian guy.”
I look at Hunter, confused. “Except you saw Bryce here this morning,” I reply.
Hunter shrugs. “I thought maybe it upset you, so you went looking for comfort. I gotta say I’m glad it’s not. That dude is bad news,” Hunter grumbles.
“I remember liking you, Hunter,” Bryce’s voice floats over from the kitchen. He points a spatula at Hunter. “Good instincts.”
“So you remember, huh?” Hunter asks. I can’t help smiling.
“Starting to,” Bryce admits. He looks at me and smiles back. “But I’m getting more back with every passing hour. Still don’t know who this guy is though.” His eyes flick to Graham.
“Oh, sorry, this is Graham Forrester,” Hunter replies. “My boyfriend.” Hunter shifts uncomfortably.
“Nice to meet you, Graham,” Bryce replies, looking down at whatever it is he’s chopping. “I’m Bryce. I’d shake your hand but …” He lifts his hands to demonstrate the knife in one and a pile of zucchini in the other. I hear a sizzle as he tosses the zucchini into a pan before going back to chopping.
“Nice to meet you,” Graham replies uncertainly, still clearly wondering what the hell is going on.
Hunter also looks like he’d like an explanation. “So …” he prompts in a low voice. I shake my head.
“Later,” I whisper.
“Okay. You guys need some privacy?” Hunter whispers back.
“Maybe later,” Bryce calls. “Stick around. I’m making stir fry.”
“God, that guy has got the ears of a bat,” Graham mutters.
And I can’t help but smile. “Some things never change.”