Page 49 of Remember Me

“After you guys left, we had dinner and another bottle of wine on the terrace. We were huddled under a blanket and, in my drunken state, I asked him why he didn’t kiss me at the rink.”

Kayla looks at me, seeming to be impressed by my boldness. “Yes, girl! And what did he say?”

“He said it was because he couldn’t ignore my growling stomach.” I roll my eyes. “So, I said, ‘Well I’m not hungry now,’ and he was like, ‘But you’re drunk.’ And to be honest, I didn’t think I was as drunk as I was. But in the end, he just said, ‘Fuck it,’ and went for it.” My cheeks are flaming now—I’m blaming the alcohol.

“Wow, I’m literally shook. The balls on you two. Finally. I’m impressed.” She’s looking at me now, chewing the corner of her lip, trying to decipher what I’m thinking. I don’t even know myself, babe.

“In answer to your other questions, there was tongue involved and, when he slid me onto his lap, I felt a significant bulge.” I cover my face with my hands. “It was all-consuming and mind-altering; the world faded away around us—until I ruined the moment and puked everywhere.”

“Babe, I can’t believe you did that. Although it could have been worse, you could have puked on him.” She giggles as she tops up our glasses.

“Yes, thank God for small mercies. After, he put me to bed, where I passed out and woke up freaking out. And honestly? I still am.”

“What was said this morning? Did you talk to him?”

“Yep, I couldn’t sleep, and it seems neither could he. I rambled on and on about how it was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened…” I wave my hand in the air as in a ‘you get my drift’ kind of motion. “He said he was sorry he took advantage of me in my drunken state, but he wasn’t that sorry because he liked it and wanted it.”

Kayla squeals. “Stop it, he actually said that? Look at Jake going after what he wants.”

“What do you mean?”

She blows out a breath and braces her arms on my shoulders. “Ok, I know I’m not meant to tell you things and you’re meant to recover shit in your own time, blah blah blah, but I need to tell you this. I think it’ll clear some things up for you.”

“What things?”

“Well, before the accident, you were in love with Jake, and I’m pretty sure he was—I mean is—in love with you,” she blurts out.

What the hell? I was in love with Jake? And he might feel the same? “So, if we felt like that, why weren’t we together? Because I’m pretty sure last night was my first kiss, and I’m 100% sure I’m still a virgin.”

“Because you were both so blind to each other’s feelings, even now it seems. You were both stuck in the friend zone for so long neither of you knew how to get out. Until you almost did.” She lets that statement hang in the air.

I’m desperate to gulp down the rest of my mimosa, but I need a clear head for the rest of this conversation.

A memory floats to the surface of my mind:

A masquerade ball, Jake dancing, someone in a red dress dancing with him. Is that me? We’re dancing so close and intimately, like we’ve been doing this for years. Our faces move in closer together, lips almost touching when we’re interrupted by a beautiful brunette woman. The memory flicks to me outside the venue, tears streaming down my face and ripping my mask off.

“The masquerade ball.”

Kayla squeals and claps her hands. “Oh my god! You remember! That was your birthday, the one just before the accident. I really thought that would be the night you two finally stopped dancing around each other, but then Vanessa the Viper showed up and you left like you were going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight.” She stops to take a breath.

“Is Vanessa the brunette who interrupted us?” I ask. “Who is she?”

“She’s a puck bunny—the girl honestly needs a muzzle.” I swear I almost see Kayla bare her teeth. “She is all over Jake like a rash, but he’s not interested, and if you had stuck around long enough, you would have seen him push her away.”

Wow, this is a lot to process. “But I’m too inexperienced to hold his attention, and as much as he says he’s happy to take it slow, my version of slow might be too slow, you know?” Why am I trying to talk myself out of this? What is wrong with me?

Kayla narrows her eyes and purses her lips, obviously trying to think where to start with this. “I’m not normally good with the advice—I tend to be more of an inappropriate comment kind of girl—but for you, I’m going to try. And I’m going to give you some tough love at the same time.”

I’m not sure I’m ready for this. I down my drink, and she pours us another. Then she starts.

“First of all, you are plenty good enough for Jake Smithson. You’ve been friends for a long time and all he has done since I’ve known him—which is also a long time—is talk about you, and vice versa. You’re always on his mind; his tattoo is evidence of this.”

I’m about to jump in when she holds a finger up, stopping me. “Also, he’s not interested in puck bunnies. Yes, he may have been with a few in his time, but it wasn’t ever anything meaningful, just something to pass the time when he thought he couldn’t be with you.”

I mull this over, I guess I can see that being true, especially if he thought he was in the friend zone. He hasn’t been with anyone since my accident, and I know this—he’s pretty much been glued to my hip since then.

“He knows you’re inexperienced. I revert back to point one: he’s known you since you were ten. He’s not stupid. To be honest, he probably likes that you haven’t been with anyone else.”