Page 25 of Forget Me Not

“Does it scare you?”

His head shakes back and forth so subtly I might have missed it if I wasn’t boring holes into his temple from staring so hard. “It’s not about me.”

I stop. We’ve reached the bottom. But I’d have stopped either way. “How can you say that? Of course it’s about you. Or, at least about youas well.”

He tips his head toward his shoulder thoughtfully. “Huh. Then maybe I should be scared.” But he follows it up with a wry expression, so I can’t be sure. Doesn’t matter how long I’ve known him, he’ll never be as transparent to me as I am to him.

“Gun,” I start to explain, but he starts walking again, throwing me off my course.

“You love me?”

“I do.”

“And I, you.” He pauses briefly when we reach the main foyer. “All I want is for you to be happy, Coop. If you’re happy, I’m happy. No matter what.”

I’m about to tell him that he can take his selfless bullshit and shove it when the front doors open and we both look up just in time to see my whole world come crashing down.

“Reed.”

“Cooper.” He barely breathes my name, but he says it. And he knows it. And he knowsme.

“You...remember?” I nearly choke on the words, my throat twisting into a knot, cutting off all abilities to speak or swallow. I can barely even take in a breath, standing here, face to face with him after all this time.

Tears sparkle in his bright blue eyes, and he smiles, a heartbreaking smile. “I never forgot.”

The words hit me like a blade to the heart, slicing me straight through. It’s painful and beautiful and somehow I know my heart will heal better now having been run through in one smooth motion. Until I feel it. The jagged edge I didn’t see being pulled back out, catching and tearing at me in places I didn’t even know could hurt. But they do. Because Gun just let go of my hand. He just...let go. And then, everything goes black.

Chapter Four

Reed

My eyes are still glued to her face when her lids flutter shut and her jaw goes slack. It’s not until her knees buckle that I grasp what’s happening and lunge for her. I’m not the only one. And, I’m not the fastest. The other guy catches her. The other guy.

“I’ve got her,” he insists gruffly when I can’t stop myself from trying to reach for her myself. It should be my job to catch her. And if the last seven years hadn’t robbed us, it would be. Instead, this other guy thinks it’s his.

“Is she okay? I mean, does this happen a lot?” Her fingertips slide over mine as he pulls her away and out of my reach entirely.

“Hasn’t happened in a long time.” The guy’s jaw clenches and I can tell he’s pissed. This also seems to be the extent of his explanation because he’s turning away from me and heading back up the stairs they just walked down together less than five minutes ago. Only this time, her limp, unconscious body is hanging in his arms and I’m no longer walking in with the excitement of seeing her, I’m struggling not to lose my shit at the sight of her fainting two seconds after she recognized me.

“You gonna make it up those steps or am I gonna have to come back down there and carry your ass up too?” Any other day his comment would piss me off, today it’s spot on.

It’s like he’s the only one here with a clear head. And I don’t even know who the hell he is. I hate that feeling. Especially right now. Because whoever he is, he’s with her. He was holding her hand when they came down the stairs, he’s holding her entire body in his arms as we speak. Maybe I knew him before. Maybe he was always around. But I don’t know, because I can’t fucking remember.

“Reed?” he calls back from several flights above me. He knows me. Or at the very least, he knows of me.

“I’m coming.” I take two steps at a time, suddenly fueled by an innate desire to know what he knows. To understand. And, to figure out how much it’s going to take for him to understand that I’m not going anywhere. That from now on, I intend to do the catching again.

When I reach the top floor, I’m greeted by an open door and no sign of either one of them. I pause briefly in the opening. It’s a loft. A large one with a defining softness in the décor that tells me this isherplace, not theirs.

A few steps into the loft and I spot them. He’s got her draped over a hot pink velvet sofa littered with an exceptional number of pillows in more colors and patterns than should be legally safe for one’s eyes. She’s still unconscious from the looks of things and he’s crouched down beside her.

“Go grab a dish towel and soak it in cool water, would ya?” It’s a question, but I don’t get the sense he knows how to present those, because that sounded a hell of a lot more like a demand. Regardless, it’s something I can do to help, so I head for the kitchen at the center of the place.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” I’m assuming I knew it at some point.

He frowns, briefly taking his attention from her to look at me. “I thought you said you remembered.”

I turn off the water and wring out the towel. “No. I said I never forgot. Her. I never forgot Cooper. All this time, she’s been like this thought I couldn’t fully form, but knew was there. But that’s it. She’s it. I still don’t remember anything from before the accident.” An event in both our lives I’m sure he’s aware of.

---