He takes a long breath and rubs my back. “Have you eaten anything?”
I can’t remember if I’ve eaten anything. He looks around, sees the slushie, and picks it up. He reads the 7-Eleven logo like it’s written in a foreign language. “Did you buy this?” he asks.
I start breathing harder. The slushie was the only thing I knew to be true so far today, but JP seems shocked to see it in the cup holder.
He repeats, “Did you buy this?’
I nod.
He peels off the plastic top and inspects the contents. The slushie is unnaturally blue and starting to melt. He takes a sip and makes a smacking noise like he’s tasting a slushie for the first time in his life.
With a nod, he says, “You need the sugar. Take this.”
I’m crushed that he doesn’t know what a slushie is. He’s never met me the real me. I know it as deeply as I know that I love slushies. I take the drink, though, because he’s right. The slushie will help.
I stare forward and suck the blue-raspberry flavor down, racing to the bottom faster than I’m doing in real life. When I’m three-quarters of the way done, I feel okay again. I’m breathing normally and I’m not sweating. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I don’t know what happened.” I mean, I sort of do, but I’m not going to tell him. A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye and I wipe it away with the hem of my dress.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s just get you home.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
After ten or so minutes of normalcy, JP says, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
A laugh burbles out of me, loose and messy. The idea is absurd.
“No,” I answer with the confidence of someone who was recently hospitalized.
“Are you sure?”
“I really doubt it.”
He nods. “Low blood sugar can hit you hard. Maybe you should have your thyroid checked.”
I nod. “Good tip.” I look at his face, and my panic has subsided enough that I can see how blue his eyes are. He looks like he’s been filtered and photoshopped into the driver’s seat of a Ferrari, but he’s sitting next to me. He’s worried about my thyroid. What planet am I living on?
I blink and JP’s eyes are just as improbably blue as they were before. His hair is just as jet-black.
“I think you were right about my blood sugar. I think I skipped breakfast.”
“All coffee and no calories, if I know you.” He leans over the center console. Before he kisses me, he pauses to let our breath mingle and let the heat build and sizzle for the briefest of moments. When he closes the gap, pressing his lips to mine, I let my eyelids close and drift off to wherever this kiss is going to take me. Suddenly all I want is for him to fuck me senseless. I want to forget everything. I want to forget that I’ve forgotten everything important, and I want it now.
I can feel him smile through the kiss and he says, “Down, girl” in the kind of voice that tells me he’s feeling it too.
When he pulls away, a semi rushes past and the wind rocks the car just slightly. “We have to get home first at least.”
He turns on the radio and I lean back against the black leather bucket chair.
JP didn’t bash my head in. I just know it. He’s caring and thoughtful and sexy as fuck. Pre-amnesia Mia was smartand chose him. Her choices should trump everything that I’ve done in the last few days.44
I don’t think Max is going to like him.
As we pull back onto the freeway, Jules stares down from his spot on the billboard overlooking the 405.See ya soon, buddy.Suddenly everything seems a little more possible.
“So how was Switzerland?” I ask, suddenly remembering that I’m not the only person in the world.
“Amazing. There’s so much history there. Everything just feels so much more…real.”
I almost laugh.
