Page 8 of Amnesty

These were the kind of moments I wanted to spend my time on. When I was with Amnesia, it didn’t matter it was time I would never get back, because it was currency well spent.

“Move in with me.” I hadn’t planned to say that. The request was a complete surprise.

Okay, maybe not a surprise. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about moving Am in here. I thought about it a lot, but I knew the timing was all wrong.

Screw time and what it dictated. I wanted her.

Her eyes widened, a little of the sex-induced haze cleared. “What?”

“Move in. I want to wake up to you every single day.”

Her lips curled up. That soft expression returned. “Really?”

I made a show of rolling my eyes. “Duh.”

“Duh?” she teased.

I shrugged against the pillows. “It’s all that reality TV you make me watch.”

Giggling, she twirled a few curls lying over my ear. As she twisted, she sighed. “I wish I could.”

“Oh, baby, you can.”

Her eyes grew sad for a moment, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “No, I can’t. Not right now.”

“Why?” I demanded, surly.

She tugged my hair. “I don’t want to do something you might regret.”

A rude sound erupted from my mouth. “The only thing I regret is not asking sooner.”

“It’s just not a good time right now.”

I had to ask. There was no stopping the question. “If I had asked you last week, what would you have said then?”

Her eyes skirted away, her body language changed. I’d hit the nail on the head. It didn’t feel good to be right. In fact, it was fucking painful.

Her voice was soft, maybe because her face was now turned away. “A lot has happened in a week.”

Gently, I reached out, grasping her chin to carefully bring her face back around. “Nothing has changed the way I feel. Can you say the same?”

Her eyes widened, so much so the whites around the brown orbs of her irises were on full display. “Of course I can.” Her voice cracked as if my words pierced something inside her that was already raw.

“Hey,” I murmured, palming her hip and urging her back around to face me. I felt like a complete dick. Questioning the way she felt about me wasn't what I meant to do, but that’s the way it came out, and now I’d made it seem as though the way she showed her love wasn’t enough.

It was enough.

“Am, I’m sorry.” I began, tugging her fully against my body. The way her nose nuzzled against my chest caused my throat to constrict. “I know you love me. I just got frustrated.”

The words sounded stupid to my ears. Useless. Some words were more powerful than others, and sometimes it seemed the words that hurt weighed more than any apology.

“I do love you,” she said, the softness of her mouth brushing over my skin as she spoke. Her voice was muffled, but I understood every word. Amnesia pulled back, enough to tilt her head up and look me in the eyes. I still saw traces of hurt there, but more than that wariness. “I don’t even think I can explain how much you mean to me.” Her voice faded. “I just—”

“Stop,” I cut her off. “You don’t have to say anything else.” I rubbed my palm over her shoulder, hoping it was a soothing gesture. “You’ve been through so much shit. It’s literally not even funny. And it’s even less fair of me to push you to move in here when you aren’t ready.”

“I wish I was,” she whispered. Her throat worked to swallow.

“The second you are, just say the word. The offer never expires.”

---