My eyes widen. “I… Yeah,” I reply but shake my head. “But I can’t… I don’t remember why I was with Pop or where we were going.”
“I can, uh, fill in some of those gaps for you,” he offers. “If you want, that is.”
Do I want that?
The doctor said to let my memory return on its own, but what if that never happens? What if I’m destined to never fullyrecover, only catching glimpses into my past when they decide to flash in my mind?
Fuck it.
“Please,” I say softly. “But can I get some clothes and a few inches of space first? Not sure I’ll be able to focus with that pipe poking me through your pants.”
For a moment, I worry that I’ve offended him, but then he throws his head back and laughs.
“There’s my girl,” he says when he sobers. “Fuck, I love you.”
Without missing a beat, he stands and stalks toward a dresser. He returns with a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, all of which don’t look like they’d fit him at all.
“Here ya go. They’re yours,” he adds when I don’t immediately take them.
“Not Peach’s?” I ask, arching a brow.
Why that thought entered my conscience, I have no clue.
“Peach?” he counters. “Why the fuck would you think the clothes belong to her?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Got a weird vibe from her. Thought maybe there was something between the two of you.”
Lyric snorts. “That bitch? Hell no. She’s tried to get in my bed a few times, but that hasn’t happened since…”
“Since when?” I prod when he doesn’t finish.
“Since I asked you to marry me.”
Taking the clothes from his hand, I take the time to get dressed and ponder that new piece of information. As soon as I’m covered, I climb back onto the mattress and curl up under the blanket.
“Okay, now we can talk,” I say.
He sits next to me but stays on top of the blanket. “One thing I need to make very clear,” he begins. “You have always been and will always be the only girl for me, Mellie. There’s never been anyone else.”
“Seriously?”
He thrusts a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how much to say and how much to keep back, ya know? The doctor said?—”
“I don’t give a damn what the doctor said,” I snap, and I immediately want to call the words back when he frowns. “Sorry. It’s just… How about this? If I ask a question, answer it. If it starts to sound like something I think you shouldn’t tell me, I’ll shut you up.”
He leans his head against the black leather headboard. “Works for me. But I have one condition.”
I eye him skeptically. “What’s your condition?”
“If you want to shut me up, you have to kiss me.”
A jolt of pleasure at the idea of tasting him goes straight to my core, but I pretend to think about his condition for a few minutes. Finally, I nod.
“Okay. Agreed.”
He grins, and if he’d given me panties to put on, they’d be wet. “Okay. Go ahead and ask your questions.”
“You still haven’t answered my last one,” I remind him.
