Page 48 of Forget Me Not

Present Day

For fifteen minutes, I’ve been fighting the urge to tear this loft apart in search of anything that Gun may have left behind. If he was here enough to buy groceries, he’s bound to have left some essentials here as well. Without actually snooping, I wander into the bathroom. Only one toothbrush hanging in the hook. Mine’s lying on the counter. Like a visitor.

The shower gel was chick soap all the way, so either he never stayed over or he didn’t mind. I managed this once, but shower gel and shaving cream have been on my mental list of things to buy since I stepped into the shower this morning.

Her razor’s propped on the built-in soap dish under the shower head and while Gun isn’t exactly clean shaven, there’s no sign of any sort of trimmers either. At least not out in the open. And I’m not checking cupboards. I’m not going to be that guy.

Which leaves me back in the bedroom. There aren’t any doors on the closets which makes looking around in here a great deal easier. At first glance, I see no signs this guy ever even set foot in here. Then, my eyes settle, my thoughts slow and I start to notice the details. The oversized t-shirt she slept in. The half empty water bottle on my side of the bed.Hisside. A backpack on the corner chair, half zipped with a pair of sneakers sticking out. Guy sneakers. I don’t bother to look in the closets. Chances are high I’m not going to like what I find there.

Not that I can be upset with her. Or even him. I’m the one who was gone all this time. Cooper had no reason to believe I’d ever show up on her doorstep the way I did. Of course, she moved on. Still. I don’t have to like it. I definitely don’t have to accept living with it sprawled out around me. Not when this is going to be our space. And it will be. Mine. Hers. Gun’s gotta go.

Or better yet. We do. After everything we’ve been through, a fresh start is the least we deserve. A clean slate. A perfect new beginning, uncluttered with the past.

I’m just getting excited at the idea when I hear the front door.

“Babe?” I love the sound of that word in that voice calling for me. The world is set right in one simple syllable.

I hurry out of the room and into the main living space to greet her. “I missed you,” I tell her the second she’s in my arms. Warm. Soft. Mine.

She giggles, her long wavy hair dancing down her back. “I was barely gone.”

“You were gone. That’s enough reason to miss you right there.” I slide my thumb under her chin, tilting her head up until our eyes meet. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. Ever again.” I bend down until our lips touch. She tastes of cinnamon and coffee and I realize I love that she has a sweet tooth.

“How do you propose we accomplish this? Have ourselves medically attached at the hips?” she whispers, her lips still moving over mine as she does.

“No, no good. I don’t want to be locked into any...positions.”

She breaks away in mock embarrassment. “Reed,” she squeals, playfully slapping my chest. I grab her hand as soon as she does, bringing it to my mouth and carefully licking and sucking each fingertip one at a time. “Hm, icing,” I quietly growl my approval.

A moan escapes her, her knees buckling ever so slightly as she folds her petite frame into mine.

“Breakfast,” she mumbles, one hand raking through my hair while the other trails down my chest.

I bite her soft lip, holding it between my teeth just long enough to glide the tip of my tongue over her hot, trembling skin. “Breakfast can wait.” I wrap both hands around her tiny waist and begin to navigate her backwards toward the bedroom. She’s the only thing I’m hungry for right now.

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Cooper

I slam the door shut behind me and lean against it. My entire body is shaking and I can barely catch my breath. I can hear Reed on the other side, scrambling from the bed and hurrying after me.

A quiet knock.

“Cooper? Is everything okay?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. Everything is not okay. But I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell Reed that the phenomenal things his hands and mouth were doing to my body brought on a full on panic attack. I can’t tell him that the sound of my zipper being undone combusted like an explosion inside my head. That the imminent results of his desire would lead to us being naked. Together. Making love. And that those very thoughts sent my mind into a tailspin I have yet to recover from.

I can’t tell him. I can’t tell Reed, the man I’ve adored all of my adult life, the man I’ve pined for, carried my shattered heart in pieces for, that I can’t be with him the way he so clearly wants to be with me. Because he’ll want to know why. And while my body and head are taking it in turns convulsing with spasms of insanity, I have yet to determine the cause of any of this.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, still breathless from the heated make out session. Or maybe from bolting in here to lock myself into the bathroom. Who can really say at this point. “I just...need a minute.” Or twenty. How many minutes until tomorrow?

“Did I...do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” I can hear absolute anguish in his voice. I feel miserable. Miserable for him. Maybe a little more miserable for me. Only because I already felt like shit before I realized I made him feel like shit, too. That’s like, double shit feelings.

I turn toward the door, pressing my forehead against the wood. One deep breath and I reach down to push the handle, creating a crack just large enough for one eye to peer through at him.

“I swear it’s not you, Reed. It’s just...so surreal. I think my head’s still trying to catch up to the fact that my non-stop fantasy has become a very physical reality...and I’m not handling it with nearly as much grace as I’d have preferred. I’m sorry. Really...just, so sorry for acting like a total jerk while you’re being so amazing.”

He looks absolutely wretched, his perfect mouth frowning and his usually crystal blue eyes darkened with sadness and confusion.

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