NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1)(79)

“You have no idea.”

But I do. “At least you still have your memories. My mind is like Swiss cheese.”

I chew on my lip for a second. “The drawing of me that you did. I was naked and in high heels…”

Dare levels a gaze at me. “Do you remember the day I based that drawing off of?”

Oh, I do. I definitely do now. It was right before school had ended and it was amazing.

“I do. But… I found that drawing in Finn’s journal. He’d written MINE all over it. But it wasn’t Finn. I think it was me.”

Dare sighs. “You asked me for the drawing the night you caught me drawing it.”

I stare at him, shocked. “I did? I don’t remember that part.”

I don’t remember it at all. Why would I write all over my own drawing?

Because I thought I was Finn. Because subconsciously I couldn’t let go of Finn.

I shake my head and look away. “This is maddening. I remember some things, but other things…especially when it comes to you, are still fuzzy.”

He gives me a dark look. “Maybe your mind is still trying to protect you.”

That gives me pause and I freeze in place, my feet sinking in the damp sand. “What would it have to protect me against?”

Dare shrugs, his face a perfect expressionless mask.

“You know I can’t say.”

Frustration makes me want to scream. “The doctors said I need to remember on my own,” I tell him sharply. “They didn’t say you can’t give me hints.”

He shakes his head. “It’ll come to you. Just know that I’ll never hurt you. Not on purpose.”

“It’s your past,” I tell him confidently. “Where you came from. I’m sure of it. Because that’s the part that’s fuzzy. How we met. But I did an internet search on you. Nothing was unusual.”

Except for the part where he’s richer than God, and has had a million blond girlfriends. I absentmindedly twirl a piece of my long red hair around my finger, because I’m the farthest thing from blond there is.

We sit on the beach finally, staring out at the water, listening to it crash against the rocks.

I lay my head against Dare’s shoulder.

“It can’t be too bad. Whatever it is, I was fine with it before. I know that because we were still together when… it happened.”

When I lost everything.

Dare grabs my hand, his thumb playing with mine. The only sound is the water, crashing into the shore then sucking back into the ocean. To and fro. It’s a lulling, soothing sound.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say softly, no longer worried.

“Yes, you will.” There seems to be slight trepidation in Dare’s voice.

For days, I think about it.

For days, nothing comes.

Dare stays with me like a champion. He comes to my house every day. He sits with me, goes through pictures with me, plays the piano for me.

Every day, I remember why I love him.

Every day I love him more.

Then one night, I’m curled up on Dare’s couch, my head on his lap as he reads.

“I love you,” I say simply, out of the blue, my words cutting through silence.

Dare looks up from his book, his dark eyes smoldering.

“Are you sure?”

I smile. “Of course. What’s not to love?”

He pulls me up, his book dropping to the floor as I’m crushed to his chest, his hands pressing, pulling, feeling.

Warmth from his hands soaks into me, thawing me, and for the first time in days and days, it ignites in me, making me want more.

“Thank you for staying with me,” I murmur. “You didn’t have to.”

I pause, then kiss him.

His lips are warm and firm and they light a fire in my belly, a fire that I forgot existed. It extinguishes my sadness for the moment, and I arch into him, pulling him closer.

There’s so much familiarity here… so much want.

His hands trace my collarbone, running down my arms, setting my nerve endings on fire. They burst into flame, burning away anything else but the desire to be with him, right here and right now.

“You think you don’t deserve me,” I whisper against his neck. “But that’s not true. I’m the one… I don’t deserve you.”

I kiss him again, and he groans in my mouth, the sound of it driving me to the brink because I know he wants me too.

“You want me,” I tell him urgently, pulling at him. “I know you do.”

“I’ve always wanted you,” he tells me roughly.

“It’s just you and me now,” I tell him. “You and me. That’s all that matters.”

Make me feel something besides pain.

I kiss him again and his hands splay around my hips, positioning me so that I’m lodged against his hardness. I suck in a breath and look up into his eyes, eyes that hold a thousand secrets, but eyes that I love.

I love him.

“No matter what,” I whisper. He pauses from kissing my neck and looks at me questioningly as he lifts his hand to brush my hair back. The light glints from his ring, and I’m frozen.

Because fragments come flying into my mind. Memory fragments. Images of that same exact expression, of his ring glinting in the moonlight as he tells me something. It’s a confession and he’s alarmed, upset, anxious.