Page 67 of Mistaken Intention

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 instinctto 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-cutlegs 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 enoughto 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.

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