Just breathe and drive.
I repeated the mantra over and over in my head. I had to say it constantly, because if I didn’t, I would forget. I’d probably run my truck right off the road and land in a ditch.
Her first kiss. Not really, but really. It wasn’t the lake that was a siren. It was her. Something in Amnesia beckoned me like nothing else. I couldn’t explain. Fuck, I barely understood it. Yet I sure as hell felt it.
I’d wanted to do that so long. So fucking long.
And now I wanted to do it again.
I saw my future spelled out for me now, plain as day. I would live between our kisses and die every time her lips met mine. Death and resuscitation all at once, that was Amnesia, the girl who forgot everything, a girl I would always know by heart.
When Maggie’s house came into view, I wished I’d driven a hell of a lot slower. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet, but really, I probably never would be. Amnesia brought out an intense greediness in me. I didn’t want to share her. Not with anyone.
Obviously, I knew that was impossible and also sort of creepy. If you held on too tight to a butterfly, you crushed its wings.
I pulled straight into the driveway, parking directly in front of the garage door. I figured Maggie was probably already home and parked inside so it didn’t matter if I blocked it.
“This is Maggie’s place?” Amnesia asked, gazing out the window.
Well, shit. Guess I should have been less consumed with her on the way over here and given her a mini tour of the neighborhood. That made me a shitty guide.
But an excellent kisser.
“Yep, this is it. It’s one of the nicest streets in Lake Loch.” I looked at the two-story white home through the windshield. It was pretty traditional with black shutters, a black front door with a gold knocker, and planter beds full of colorful mums along the front. “She’s lived here since I was a kid.”
“With Elmo?” Am asked, glancing at me.
I smiled. “Yeah, her dog. He’s a little fluff ball. Her husband used to live here with her, but he passed a few years ago. Sudden heart attack.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible.”
“It was unexpected. It was hard. Maggie’s had a lot of loss in her life.”
“Maybe that’s why she’s been so kind to me,” Am murmured. “She’s very compassionate.”
“Maybe,” I echoed, a lump in my throat.
“Are you sure it’s okay I stay here?” She worried, her hands wringing in her lap.
My hand settled over her clasped ones. “You’re going to like it here. Maggie’s great.”
“It’s hard to just…” Her voice trailed off.
“Hard to what?” I pressed.
“Hard to walk into a strange place and call it home.”
“Maybe it’s not home,” I told her. “Maybe it’s just a safe place to stay until you figure out where home is.”
Brown eyes shifted to me and softened. “Think it will be hard to figure out where home is?”
“I think you’ll find exactly where you belong.”
Her smile was big and bright, the freckles on her nose and cheeks bunching up, and my heart turned over.
“I’ll get your stuff,” I said and catapulted out of the truck. At her side, I hefted the bag over my shoulder and gathered a few of the gift bags from the party. She had the flowers in her arms already, looking so fucking adorable I shifted all the shit I was holding into one arm so I could slip the other around her waist and lift her out of the truck.
Her body slid down mine when I stood her in the driveway, but I was remiss in moving away. I just wasn’t ready yet. The autumn breeze ruffled her hair and a strand blew into her eyes. I grasped it, rolling it between my fingers.
“I don’t know why it’s like that,” she said suddenly, almost as if the words just burst out without thought.
My fingers paused and my eyes shifted over to hers. “What is?”
“My hair,” she said, ducking her face. “It’s all uneven and chopped up.”
“It doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” I promised. I did wonder about her hair, the way it was almost butchered in some places. The color was beautiful, dark blond, almost golden beneath the sun. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would hack it up that way.
“Really?” she whispered.
“Duh,” I said and rolled my eyes.
She giggled. “I don’t like it.”
“Change it then,” I said, dropping the strand and moving back a step. “You can do whatever you want, Am.”
Her eyes lit up as if her own independence wasn’t something that occurred to her. “Maybe I will.”
Catching her hand, we walked across the driveway and down the sidewalk toward the front door. The street itself was a quiet one, with sidewalks and large trees whose branches shaded the road. All the lawns were well taken care of, and many of the neighbors had plants and flowers dotting their property.
“You still have my number, right?” I asked when we stopped at the front door.
She nodded.
“Use it anytime you want, okay? Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
“I’m nervous,” she rushed out.
I dropped everything I held near the door and pulled her into my arms. “It’s going to be okay,” I spoke against her hair. I felt her nod against my chest, her arms clutched at my back. After a few moments, I pulled back. “How about I come get you tomorrow and give you a tour of the town? Show you around.”
“Can I see your store?” she asked, interested.
“First stop.” I promised.
“I’d love that.”
“I’ll come by late morning, just before lunch. I’ll take you out.” Like a date.
She nodded enthusiastically.
I smiled fast. I liked knowing when I would see her again. “You know,” I said, taking her hand, “I’m used to seeing you every single day.”
“Me, too.” Her lips curved up.
Behind us, the front door opened. Maggie poked her head out the glass storm door. “Amnesia!” she said. “Just in time. Your room is all ready.”
I nodded at Am, encouraging her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” She agreed softly.
After I put all her bags inside, I came back out, hesitating in front of her. I didn’t want to leave. I hated walking away from her.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, smiling up at me.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”
Her breath caught a little, which was very satisfying. “Bye.”
“Go inside, Am,” I ordered quietly, reaching around her to hold open the door. “I’m not leaving ‘til you’re in the house safe.”
She went in, the glass door closing between us.
The second I pulled out of the driveway, I started looking forward to tomorrow.