This One Moment (Pushing Limits, #1)(11)

The voice, the one filling my dreams, started singing again, and the emotions I always felt when I heard the song became a jumbled mess.

I wanted the song to stop.

I didn’t want the song to stop.

The corners of my lips curved up in a slight smile. Warm callused fingers gently brushed the back of my hand.

“Hailey? Hey, babe, are you gonna open your beautiful eyes for me?” Nolan’s deep voice sank into my body, hugging my bones tight, and the full-bodied richness melted me to the core.

I wanted to do as he asked. Even if he was just a dream, I wanted to open my eyes and see him. Really see him.

With all the strength I could muster in my achy body, which felt like someone had mistaken me for a soccer ball and kept kicking it against the wall, I cracked open my eyelids.

A bright light pounded on my brain and my head screamed in pain. I let my eyelids drift shut.

The fingers stroking my hand moved to my face, and a thumb brushed against my cheek. “Hey, Forget-Me-Not. Am I gonna have to kiss you like the prince kissed Sleeping Beauty?”

Yes, please.

Apparently I hadn’t just answered that in my mind like I’d thought I had. A warm breath kissed my mouth first, before a pair of real lips, as soft as I’d imagined they would be, briefly touched mine.

Then all too quickly they pulled away, leaving behind the crisp lingering scent that reminded me of lemons and sunshine. Nolan’s scent.

I turned my head, taking care not to move it too fast and cause the pain to worsen. I opened my eyes again, the movement slow. This time the light wasn’t as bright as before. It took a moment or two for the world to come into focus. The IV attached to the back of my hand. The rough sheets, thin, almost weightless, not at all like my comfy bedding at home. The bland white walls with the two nondescript beige doors. The only real color in the room came from the explosion of flowers on the nightstand and the windowsill.

Behind me, I heard a regular beeping noise from the heart rate monitor. I hadn’t noticed the sound until now, so I had no idea if it had kept the same steady beat when those warm lips touched mine. God, I hoped the damn thing hadn’t sped up. Shoot me now if it had.

Once my eyes adjusted to the room and the light without another flash of pain stabbing my head, I turned toward Nolan. He hadn’t changed much since he’d left Northbridge. He still looked very much like the guy I had grown up with. The guy who had practiced dribbling the soccer ball with me hours after everyone else had gone home. The guy who hadn’t laughed at how much I sucked when he tried to teach me to play the guitar. And the guy I had fantasized kissing, night after night. His light brown hair was shaggier than back then, which only made him sexier. His normally smooth face was rough with a day or two of growth, which also made him sexier. And I knew without removing his shirt that his body was as lean and muscular as before.

Seeing him in front of me hurt almost as much the dull throb in my head. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until now. The glossy-picture version, the music-video version, the TV-interview version were all weak facsimiles of the real deal.

“Hey, pretty girl. Fancy meeting you here.” The sexy, mischievous smile I clearly remembered from five years ago slipped onto his face. And this time the heart rate monitor did betray the upkick of my heart rate.

I glared at it; Nolan chuckled at my reaction. Luckily, unless he’d learned to read minds during the past five years, he didn’t know he was the cause of the momentarily faster beep.

“What are you…doing here?” I asked, my voice slurred and weak, sounding like it had been dragged over asphalt.

“Brandon called two days ago and told me you had been attacked and were in a coma. I came as soon as I could get a flight here.”

My brain slowly processed the things he’d said, and I wasn’t sure which left me with the most questions. I decided to go with the most pressing issue first. I’d worry later about the part where he’d come back to see me, especially after he’d abandoned me all those years ago and never bothered to return my calls or texts. “What do you…mean, I was…attacked?”

Nolan’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Don’t you remember what happened?”

I thought for a second or two, but that caused the pain in my brain to become more intense. For now, thinking was not my best friend. “I remember going to…work. That’s the last thing I…remember.”

The crevasse between his eyebrows deepened. “What day was that?”

“Monday.”

“You were attacked Friday night. You don’t remember anything at all about that night?”

“No,” I whispered, and closed my eyes, letting the sweet floral scent wash over me.

The need to curl up and sleep staggered through me. The world felt like…no, I felt like I was going in slow motion while my brain struggled to keep up.

A door swooshed open.

“She’s awake,” Nolan said. “But she doesn’t remember anything since last Monday.”

I peeled my eyes open again, curious to see whom he was talking to. Nolan rubbed the back of his neck as he studied me, as if by doing that he could answer his own questions.

A woman in her thirties, wearing blue scrubs, approached the bed. “Good afternoon, hon. How’s the pain?”

“I hurt. All over.”

Nolan laced his fingers with mine, like he used to whenever I got hurt playing soccer. Back when I’d first begun falling for him.