Page 22 of Don't Forget Me
A throat cleared, and she turned to find the Nick Jacobs leaning in the doorway, an annoying frown on his lips. One was never supposed to meet their idols, the objects of fascinations, of fantasies.
It was set up to fail.
And Nick, with his beautiful gray eyes that had always seemed to see her through her TV screen and the confident way he held himself… no, she would not pass out again.
At least he had a shirt on this time. She’d never get the image of him standing in front of her with his glorious chest on display from her mind.
“What?” It came out harsher than she’d intended it to.
He rubbed a hand across his stubble-coated jaw, and she forced herself not to follow the movement. “I came to see if you were awake.”
“Well, now you see I am.”
He lifted one eyebrow as he took in the clothing in her grasp. Truth be told, there was a very real chance she’d fit into her teenage wardrobe. She’d lost a lot of weight during the chemo and had struggled to gain it back in the year since as she’d gone through more bouts of illness and weakness.
Looking down at the boy-band shirt she clutched, she sighed. Even if it fit, this was embarrassing.
“I don’t understand.” Nick pushed off the doorframe and walked closer. “My closet was full of normal clothing. And you get… this?”
“So, you know where we are?”
“Of course.” His eyes met hers. “This is my house.”
His house? “No, it was mine.” A long time ago. Was it possible… “Did we sell to Nick Jacobs?”
He groaned. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
He pursed his lips, studying her, his eyes narrowed. “Like a fan.” Turning on his heel, he walked back into the living room.
The nerve. Dropping the clothes, Elizabeth charged after him. “I’m not, you know.” Lies. All lies. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re in my dream, but I couldn’t care less who you are.”
His obnoxious smirk told her he didn’t believe her. “You aren’t dreaming. Well, you might be, but not how you’re thinking.” As he spoke, her eyes darted to the lips that had kissed her, not giving her enough time to realize who he was and enjoy it.
He kept speaking, and her brain tried to process everything he said, but it was all a bit too much. “Wait… did you just say coma?” She crossed her arms. “I am not in a coma.” Was she? The phone call… and then nothing.
“You don’t remember it, do you?” He pulled himself onto a stool at the kitchen island. “I don’t either. I know there was some sort of accident, but that’s it.”
“Wait, then how do you know what this is? That it’s not some elaborate dream?” Technically, it was a dream, but a coma dream and not a sleeping dream.
Nick shifted his eyes away. There was something he didn’t want to say, but Elizabeth was well-versed in secrets. She understood.
“I just know.”
Somehow, she believed him. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his eyes when he looked back to her, or maybe the way the words seemed to quiver on the way out.
“Liz,” she said, reaching out a hand. “My name is Liz.”
When their hands touched, Elizabeth knew there had to be something real to this.
If there wasn’t, she wouldn’t have felt so out of control.
Nick took pity on Elizabeth and gave her one of his outfits to change in to, just a pair of sweats and a black Air Force t-shirt that practically swallowed her whole.
It had never felt so good to wear dry clothes.
By the time she emerged from the bathroom after a hot shower, her heart had returned to a normal rhythm as the panic calmed inside her.
