Page 20 of The Fall
I slide my hand across the bedspread, hoping for some mango magic to spark once again. No luck, of course, not when it comes to the most important memories I need back.
Coconut whispers through the air, warm and wonderful. Like a full-tilt creeper, I sink my face into Blair’s pillow and breathein. It’s his scent, and I go boneless, melting into his pillow, his side of the bed.
I’ve probably been here before, face-down in his pillow.
I’m off the bed in a flash, hands running through my hair. My hands are shaking, my heart is racing. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s everything and nothing at once. I need to know and I’m terrified of finding out.
There’s a door leading to the lanai from the bedroom, another wall-length glass slider. It’s an escape, and I take it.
The lanai is breathtaking, and so is the backyard. It’s an open-air living room with another massive sectional, another huge TV viewable from the couch and the pool, chaise lounges—I’ve been photographed there—and an outdoor dining table. Long lines of globe lights arch above my head. From the patio’s edge, a slope of lawn leads down to the canal, a wide ribbon of water wrapping around the house. There are no neighbors across, only palm trees and unspoiled nature.
The water laps gently against the dock, tiny, careful waves, whispering to me.
This house, this feeling of home, that amazing career. They’re not mine. They can’t be.
But Iwantto be that Torey. I want to belong here, in Blair’s life. I want to belong with him. I want to love him.
But there’s so much missing.
Hold on. I have to hold on.
Remember.
When Blair gets home, I’m back in the bedroom, face buried in his pillow, fast asleep.
I pop awake as he’s stretching out on his side, facing me. I’m up on my elbows in a flash, trying to appear as if I were doing something other than mainlining his pillow, trying to crack open my skull and pour his scent into my brain. I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but it’s long enough for the late-afternoon shadows to stretch across the bedroom floor.
Not long enough to make sense of any of this.
“Hey, hey,” Blair says. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
I collapse belly-down, face right back in his pillow. He glides his fingers over my head, digging into my scalp and sliding through my hair. “Mmph.” It’s all I can manage.
When I roll again, mirroring him, propped on my elbow on my side, his hand drifts from my scalp to my jaw, then lets it fall to the mattress. I reach for him instinctively, tangling us together.
He showered and changed at the rink, and his hair is still damp. “Hey, you.” His voice is warm and low. “Sorry I’m late. I stopped for those Key lime tarts.”
Ihatethis. There’s so much I don’t remember, so much I should know but don’t. So much I can’t do or be. There’s a whole year lost between us.
“We need to leave soon,” he says. “Hayes and Erin are expecting us around seven.”
I blink. Another something I don’t remember. Wait, no, Hayes said earlier today… “That’s right, dinner.”
He nods. Still, neither of us moves.
His scent, that intoxicating blend of coconut and Blair, envelops me. My body remembers. My body craves.
I want to trace the lines of his face, feel the warmth of his skin against mine. Sink back and let him follow me, feel the strength of him surrounding me. Lose myself in the depths of his eyes. Right now, I want the memory of our first kiss back more thananything I’ve ever wanted, because if I had that, I might have the courage to reach for him and pull him in.
“Torey?”
I blink, dragging my focus back to what he’s saying, not the way his lips move when he speaks.
“Something on your mind, Kicks?” His voice drops, and his smile goes molten.
“I’m…” I clear my throat. “Thinking about dinner.”
As if. Breathe. “How was everything with Coach?”
