I take a wobbly step back now that there’s nothing more for me to do. Have I even breathed in the last five minutes? Leaning against the counter behind me for support, I take in his profile, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s here. He’s still real.
I used to think he was larger than life. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but he seems even larger now. He was all carved muscle when we were younger. I always thought he was too perfect. My face washes in heat as my eyes roam over his broad shoulders, less defined than I remember, past the skeletal patterns of scars, and down to the soft padding above his hip bones. Drooling like a creep, I can’t find a single thing to deter me from thinking any differently now, even if his composition isn’t the same. A tug of longing stirs deep in my gut. If he looks at me right now, I might incinerate into a pile of ash on the floor.
What would I even say? Will he even remember me? Do I want him to? Of all the days I had to stand in for one of the PTAs.
There is no way I can stay in here during his treatment, not that I need to. I’m going to have to come back and unhook him when he’s done, though, but I need to get it together before I do. I can’t let my first interaction with him be while my mind and nerves are all over the place. I survived my embarrassing behavior fifteen years ago, but I don’t think I’d recover from it this time.
“You’re set for ten minutes, so I’ll leave you be. Just holler if you need anything. Okay?” I ramble, making my way to the curtain to escape.
“What’s your name?” he mumbles from his prone position.
“Remy,” I blurt, but it’s not until my hand freezes on the cloth barrier that I realize it came out as an indignant croak, as if my brain wanted me to say,‘Your Remy, of course.’
Dashing like a haunting spirit through the curtain, I speed walk through the center, oblivious to anything around me. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and a scolding chant in my head.This is stupid. So stupid.
I’m thirty-seven years old, and I’m practically hyperventilating over the sight of a guy I fantasized about more times than is healthy. I stop when I realize I’ve fled all the way out to the hallway between the main physio center and the therapy pool. I’m at work. I can’t just run into oblivion like Forrest Gump to hide from my feelings.
“Feelings,” I mutter under my breath and let out a puff of laughter.
What a joke. They weren’t feelings. It was just lust and wishful thinking. Leaning against the wall, I let my head fall back with athump, hoping it will knock some sense into me. Have I learned nothing?
Maybe this is what I do, what I’ve always done. Get giddy about a guy until I date them, and then everything loses its fizzle. I never dated Chris, so perhaps that explains why the fizzle never went away.
A part of me that I’m not proud of suggests that maybe it’s just because he’s so physically attractive. Both then and now. Please tell me I’m not guilty of lookism. I can’t be that shallow.
No. Despite his lack of romantic overtures when we were younger, I was drawn to his personality. Except, I don’t know the first thing about fifteen-years-later Chris. He could be a horrible,awful person. He could be married. The shot of nausea that stirs gives me pause.
Did he ever stop hiding? Did he marry a woman and have three kids? Does she know what he used to do with me in college?
Jesus, listen to me. I sound just as obsessive as I did back then.
Why?Why am I like this? What is it about this man that made and apparently continues to make me so irrational?
I had just gone three full days without a single thought of him after opening that Pandora’s box Mom sent me last week. Because yes, that’s how long it took to shake off the memories that her package unearthed. For crying out loud, I’ve been texting back and forth with Miles a few times since then. It’s been nothing more than chit-chat over what both of us are up to, but I’d started feeling a flicker of curiosity that it might go somewhere when he comes back to town. Now, I couldn’t care less. Because that’s what Chris Mightener does—makes me forget that any other person in the world exists. I think it took me a year and a half before I stopped ignoring anyone who tried to flirt with me after my senior year, holding onto false hope and one-sided heartache.
“Enough,” I whisper, shaking my head against the wall.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I let out a sigh. I’ll just go back in there, and maybe I can turn my back so he won’t even see me. I don’t know why I didn’t say,Jeremy, when he asked my name. The staff and I have all settled into the new facility well enough, but only half of them call me by my nickname, probably because I’m their boss.
I can act indifferent. Hell, I’ve done it without even realizing it after a while during my past few relationships.
‘Hey, Chris. Remember me? The guy you used to fuck in college? How’ve you been?’
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I groan. If Jamie were here, he’d probably backhand me so hard I’d see stars right now. I kind of wish he were. A good smack might set my brain right.
Dropping my hands to my sides, I open my eyes and blow out a breath. Fairy tales, I remind myself. Chris was nothing more than a fairy tale that didn’t come true. Probably not even that, if I’m being honest. He was just the sexiest fucking knight in shining armor I’ve ever seen.
This really is ridiculous. I didn’t even see his face. Maybe it didn’t age well. Maybe if I saw it, I wouldn’t be attracted to him at all anymore, and that phenomenon about meeting your idol being a disappointment would finally occur.
Sucking in a breath, I push off the wall and turn to head back down the hallway. I make it one step when an invisible force stops me in my tracks. That force is the unexplainable chemistry I’ve been trying to shake for the last fifteen years as I stare at the knock-me-down-and-fuck-me gorgeous face looking back at me.
Shit. Jamie’s going to have to do a lot more than bitch slap me to get the sight out of my mind.
CHAPTER 5
Chris
This shit isn’t going to work. I did TENS therapy after my surgery, but that was before I broke the hardware in my lumbar when I thought I could move a new refrigerator into my house to save a few bucks on delivery fees. Whatever. At least there are no co-pays for alumni here.
