She snored.
It was charming as hell.
I was glad she invited me to stay last night because I hadn’t planned on leaving, and in her bed with her in my arms was a hell of a lot better than the floor.
After I picked up my truck, going home hadn’t been an option, not after the day we had, not after the way she clung to me in the hospital and the reality of almost losing her again.
Although, had I really lost her in the first place?
I woke before her but lay there unmoving with her still plastered against my side and her hair spread over my bare chest. The soft snoring sounds she made literally swelled my heart.
There was nothing I didn’t love about her, not one thing so far.
Sure, a couple things might come, but I’d probably be blind to them. She was my second chance. Or perhaps maybe my first.
It scared the shit out of me that someone was out there lurking. They had to be trailing her, watching her every move. How else would they know to show up at all the places she was at the most opportune times?
If the cops didn’t do something soon, I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.
Amnesia’s breathing changed, her adorable snoring ceasing. Glancing down, I watched her stretch against me, lift her chin, and slowly open her eyes.
A flicker of surprise registered, but then it was instantly replaced by warmth. She was glad I was here. Nothing could warm me better on a cool fall day.
I didn’t say anything, instead rubbing her back. She exhaled and snuggled back into my chest, her fingers floating along my side. I wanted her; there was no denying it. No hiding it.
But it wasn’t all I wanted. I wanted all of her.
Slowly, I dragged my fingers through her short strands of hair, twirling it around my finger and then smoothing it out to start all over again. Her leg lifted over mine, pushing between them.
I couldn’t help but wonder what if.
What if that night hadn’t happened all those years ago? Would I still be here today, or would life have taken me down a different path?
It was hard to think of what-ifs when the moment you were living was everything you could ever want.
“I didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep,” Am murmured, her fingertips outlining my figure. “But I did. All night.”
“Me, too.” I agreed.
Her head cocked to the side, her brown eyes curious. “Do you ever have trouble sleeping?”
“Sometimes,” I rasped, playing with her hair again. “But not last night.”
Again, she stretched against me like a cat. I didn’t think she understood the lust that shot through me every time she did.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I asked, my hand dropping to her hip.
“Better,” she replied. “Do I still look lumpy?”
I chuckled. “Lumpy? No.”
She grunted like she didn’t believe me. I felt like grabbing her ass and letting her know it was my favorite lump on her body.
I refrained.
Regretfully.
“Do you have to go into work?” she asked.
“Nope. Called in. Dad’s watching the store today.”
Her brow furrowed. “Because of me?”
I considered fancying up the words but decided against it. “Pretty much.”
She laughed as though the answer pleased her. I knew it would.
“Another date day?” she suggested.
I winced. “This time I’ll try not to poison you.”
“That wasn’t your fault,”
I grumbled because she was right, but I felt guilty about it anyway. Poking her in the ribs, I said, “What kind of Maine girl is allergic to lobster?”
She smiled, but then it faded. “Maybe I’m not really a Maine girl.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly.
“Eddie…” She began, her tone thoughtful and more serious than expected. “I overheard—”
“Breakfast!” Maggie sang from the other side of the doorway, making Amnesia jump.
“Thank you!” she called out after a moment of silence. “I’ll be up in a bit.”
“I know Eddie’s there. Did you two think I was blind and deaf?”
Amnesia covered her mouth with her hand as giggles shook her body. Grinning wide, I slid out from beneath her, strolled over to the door, and pulled it open.
“Morning, Maggie,” I drawled.
“Well, at least you have pants on,” she said, breezing into the room with a tray of monkey bread muffins, juice, and coffee. “I take it you slept in them, too?”
“Yes, ma’am.” This was only mildly embarrassing. A twenty-five-year-old man assuring someone he slept in his jeans and didn’t in fact just have sex in their house.
Not awkward. Not at all.
“I hope it’s okay Eddie stayed last night,” Amnesia said, sitting up in bed. Her hair was mussed, her shirt slightly wrinkled, and her cheeks were still red, partly from the reaction yesterday and partly in embarrassment.
Maggie waved away her words. “Of course. Can’t say it didn’t make me feel better when I glanced out the window last night and saw your truck.”
“Glad to be of service.” I saluted her.
She laughed and turned to Am. “Now, I just wanted to let you know I have to go out for a little while, but I’ll be back this afternoon. Maybe we can catch up then?”
“Of course.” She agreed.
“Good.” She nodded once. “Breakfast is there. Eddie, take care of our girl. I’ll see you in a bit!”
When she was gone, Am and I looked at each other and laughed.
We ate breakfast in bed, and when she came back from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of jeans and the hoodie I gave her, I figured I should get dressed, too.
“I need to head home. Shower and change. You wanna come with?” I asked, rubbing a hand through my hair.
“Sure.”
I put on my shoes as she stuffed an EpiPen into her pocket and returned all the dishes to the kitchen. We met at the door and, after locking up, headed to my place.
The sky was overcast today, foggy and cold. It felt more like winter than fall, and I knew soon all the trees would be bare and snow would cover the ground.
At my place, I started a fire for Am and left her in the living room, where all I pretty much had was a couch and TV.
The shower felt good. I spent more time letting it pelt my tight muscles than anything else. Finally, after I was clean and a little less tense, I shut off the spray.
The house was quiet as I dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and combed my unmanageable hair. The silence was almost unnerving; it left me with an odd sense of foreboding.
“Amnesia?” I asked, walking down the hall toward the living room.
She didn’t answer.
“Am,” I said, stepping into the living room. The fire was still crackling, but she wasn’t there. Starting to worry, I went into the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief.
“What are you doing in here?” I murmured, coming up behind her at the window, wrapping my arms around her.
She didn’t relax against me; she felt rigid and aloof.
“Did something happen?” I asked, gazing around. Everything was fine. Another thought plagued me. “Did you have a memory?”
Pivoting from the glass, her eyes landed on mine. I wasn’t prepared for the accusatory spark in them.
“Is this me?” she demanded, holding out an old photograph.
My stomach plummeted. I didn’t even have to glance at the picture to know. “Where did you find that?” I rasped.
“It fell out of the back of a frame on your mantel.”
Dammit. I should have been more careful. “Amnesia—”
“How long ago was this taken?” she asked.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Look at it!” she insisted, shoving the image under my nose.
It was a photograph of me about twelve years before, and standing beneath my arm was someone I used to know. She had blond hair and freckles. And brown eyes.
Both of us were smiling into the camera. Young. Innocent. Full of life. Neither of us knew how drastically things would change just one year later.
“I’ve seen the picture, Am,” I spoke, miserable.
“Is that even my name?” she asked, upset.
“Yes.”
She paced away, practically marching across the kitchen. “How long ago?” she asked again.
Finally, I admitted, “Twelve years.”
She gasped. “Where is she now?”
I glanced up, not replying. She practically growled. I exhaled. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Where did she go, Eddie?” She pressed.
Well, that was an easy answer. “I don’t know.”
“Is this me?” Her voice was raw, scared.
I went to her, trying to pull her into my arms.
Her hands shot up defensively. “Stay back.”
I stopped walking. Pressure built up in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I glanced down at the photograph in her hand, at the past, and felt sorrow and confusion bubble up inside me. “Please, Am.” I tried again.
“Do you know me?” she whispered, relentless. “Is the girl in this picture me?”
“No,” I said, flat.
Her arms fell to her sides, utter disappointment written on her face. “I don’t believe you,” she rasped. “Why else would people whisper about us in the aisles of the store? What other explanation is there for the strange comments some people make or the way they look at me like they’ve seen a ghost?”
I stepped forward; she stepped back.
“The lake isn’t the only thing keeping secrets. This entire town is keeping a secret, and that secret is me!” she burst out. “Don’t lie to me!”
“Why is it so easy to suppose I’m lying to you?” I exclaimed.
“Why else…?” She paced away, then back, looked down at the photo and then back up. “Why else would you act like you’re obsessed with me?”
“Because I am obsessed with you!” I burst out. The second I heard my own voice, my own words, horror stole over me. My eyes rounded so wide my skin stretched taut over my face.
Reluctantly, I looked up at Amnesia. Her wide-eyed reaction was exactly what I was hoping not to see, but I knew full well it was the only one I would get.
Gentling my voice, I tried to backtrack. “That came out wrong.” The husky tone in my voice christened me a liar. “Actually,” I confessed, “no, it didn’t. It’s true. I am obsessed with you, Am. I have been since that night I found you floating in the lake.”
I knew it was unhealthy. Everyone looked at me with pity, with worry. Poor Eddie the victim who really wasn’t. I should have gotten over that night all those years ago. I should have learned to move on, but I couldn’t. I was haunted. Haunted by the lake. The memories… the what-ifs.
Everyone here in Lake Loch loved me, but I wasn’t an idiot. As much as I charmed them, when I walked away, sometimes they would whisper. Sometimes they would speculate.
He’s never been right since that night.
He’s a ticking time bomb.
Poor Forest and Claire. Their only son unbalanced.
He’s trying to assuage his guilt with her. He thinks he has a second chance.
“Why?” Amnesia whispered. The fact she backed away a few steps was something I didn’t miss. In fact, the newfound distance cut me like a knife. Not just the physical distance, but the mental barriers I felt her preparing to throw up.
I wouldn’t survive this twice.
Maybe the town had it right. Maybe I was unbalanced.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I told her, practically begging her to believe me. “I would hurt myself before I ever hurt you. I’d kill anyone who tried.”
Her breath rushed in. “Murder isn’t a joke.”
“I know that. I’m not joking. Given the choice between you and anyone else, I would choose you. Always.”
“You don’t even know me.” She was bewildered. I guess I understood that. But she didn’t know.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why, Eddie?” she cried, clutching the picture I wished she hadn’t found.
Why was I obsessed with her? Why did I claim to know her? Why had I been there since that night? Why, why, why?
Regret turned my voice into sandpaper. “I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” She was angry.
I couldn’t even blame her. I was angry, too. So angry it nearly drained me dry.
“Both.”
“Please, Eddie,” she pleaded, taking a step closer, holding the image out between us.
My entire body groaned as if it were trying to hold up the weight of the world. I felt my muscles straining, my resolve weakening.
How could I deny her anything? Especially when she had every right to know.
“Please tell me.”
I took a step forward, bringing us that much closer together. Am reached for my hand, and I surrendered it readily. She gave me a light shake, and the vibration traveled up my arm, tingling my heart.
Solemnly, my eyes searched hers. I felt this was a make-or-break moment for us. I wanted her so badly, so very badly.
“I can’t.” My head shook once.
Her fingers slipped away, her body floating backward. The picture in her grasp fell to the floor, crumpled from her grip. “Then I can’t trust you.”
“No, I guess you can’t.” I agreed, feeling as though my heart were literally being ripped from my chest.
“Good-bye, Eddie,” she whispered, turned, and walked out of the house without looking back.
I stood there for long moments, allowing the crushing weight of her rejection to splinter every part of me.
She was long gone. Silence wrapped around me, but I spoke anyway.
“Please, don’t go.”