Page 13 of Remember Me?

“Hey, we really need to talk this out.” He starts just as the front door crashes open.

“My Graham is here, everyone!” Rosa exclaims, jumping out of her chair and rushing to the door.

“Favoriiittee.” Marisol sing-songs, but smiles, and pushes out of her seat to greet her brother. Melody moves to do the same, but Duke puts his hand on her arm, stopping her progress.

“Please.” He pleads.

“I have nothing to say, Duke. I will be civil because we are guests in Rosa’s home, but don’t think for one second that I want to sit here and talk to you.” She stands as the group makes their way back into the dining room.

Rosa beams, entering the room first, followed by Marisol, who is absolutely jumping with energy. Jen follows the women back in, face flushed, smile on her face. Keeping her focus on the trail of women, wanting to greet her little Graham Cracker. To see if he remembered her.

Melody was expecting to see the tall, gangly little boy from her memory come bounding in. Instead, she came face-to-face with a familiar set of deep brown eyes, strong jawline, and that gorgeous mouth she had been dreaming about set in a wide happy grin.

“No.” She says aloud, her eyes going wide as panic sets in.

Her crazed gaze shoots the room. Someone else has to notice that this man is a stranger. Her stranger. How did he find her?

Wait, it can’t be. Graham is a child, no, no this can't be Graham. Graham can’t be Nash.

The truth hits her all at once, like a physical blow to her body. She inhales deeply. He looks so good, though. Another T-shirt stretched over his chest, and his hair was wet, like in in last message exchange.

Oh no, the messages. He is going to be scarred for life.

“No, what?” Duke asks, bringing her back to the present.

“Hey girl, are you ok? Is this douche bothering you?” Marisol asks, glaring at Duke as she moves to take her seat. Melody looks up again. Eyes connecting with Nash instinctively. She doesn't find him looking at her, though. His attention is entirely concentrated on Duke. Well, on Duke's hand still gripping Melody’s upper arm. His eyes flash dangerously.

“Mijo! Look, Melody is here. Do you remember her?” Not pausing for a response from her son, she continues, “Melody! Look at my Graham. Isn't he so handsome?” Rosa beams up at her boy, a trademark sexy grin on his face, while Melody freaks the fuck out.

“Okay, time for dinner, everyone!” Says Rosa, utterly oblivious to the tension suddenly drenching the room. Nash takes his eyes off Duke. They meet Melody’s. She searches his face for any recognition or repulsion, finding only hunger and longing etched on his features. He blinks and seems to shake himself back into the moment, putting his arm around his mother.

“I'll get the drinks.” Melody volunteers, pushing herself off the table and hastily fleeing the room.

“I'll help,” Duke says from beside her.

“No, no, no.” Rosa tisks. "You are a guest, Duke. Mijo can help her, right, Graham?”

Melody didn't wait for a response, rushing into the kitchen, eyes on the floor. She didn’t trust herself or her reactions in front of a room full of people. Tucking herself into the alcove once again, back against the cabinets hidden behind the bar.

Someone approaches her hiding spot. He doesn't hesitate or wonder where she is. He comes straight to her. Nash slides down and sits next to her quietly. Legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, solid and muscular. Feet bare.

You can't seriously be thinking about his legs right now, Melody. She covers her face with her hands.

“I knew.” He admits, after a moment, his gaze on the floor. “I knew it was you the moment you stepped into that bar.”

Shock consumes her. She can feel it the moment his eyes set on her face. When she doesn't respond, he bumps her shoulder with his.

“I knew exactly what I was doing, Melody, and I don't regret a single thing.” He says with hushed reverence. His voice had no business sounding so husky and attractive, like his mouth was made just for her.

He easily pushes off the floor, taking the tray of sodas out with him. He leaves her alone on the kitchen floor with a whole lot of feelings stirring in her body. Squaring her shoulders, she pushes her way into the dining room and sits stiffly in her seat for the entire dinner. She can feel Nash’s eyes heavy on her. Or should she say Graham’s eyes now?

Nash

__________

Sitting in the same space as her and not being able to touch her or talk to her is excruciating. She is pretending he’s not here. It's bullshit. Nash feels like shouting. I am right fucking here; I know you can see me.

In fact, I know what you’re hiding under that white flowy dress… I helped you pick it. He flexes his fingers, tempted to pull up her dress and touch what he knows is there.How easily memories get tossed away. The flirty messages sent back and forth. How the pictures of lacy panties flashed on his phone, demanding a decision from him.

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