by Anna Zaires, Pepper Winters, Skye Warren, Lynda Chance, Pam Godwin, Amber Lin
I worked on cleaning up my thesis all morning and then late that afternoon, I heard Logan finally arrive home from work. He’d been planning out and sketching his mural before the actual painting was set to begin in a week or so.
He found me sitting at the table, laptop forgotten, lost in thought as I stared at the much-hated painting of the woman lying in bed. He came up behind me and kneaded my shoulders. “Hey there. You need a break?”
“Hm?” I mumbled, looking up into his beautiful hazel eyes. “What’d you have in mind?”
He bent down and kissed my temple. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was being sweet to me to make up for turning me away last night to paint another woman. I reminded myself that it wasn’t his fault and let myself enjoy the moment, the sensation of his strong hands massaging my shoulders, and the feel of his warm breath on the back of my neck.
“That feels nice,” I murmured, reaching around behind me to grip his waist.
I hauled him against me and could feel that he was already hard.
He continued the massage for a few minutes more and then lifted me from the chair, held me against his chest and carried me to the bedroom. Once we reached my room, with Tom right on our heels, he set my feet on the floor and maneuvered Tom into the hallway before shutting the door.
He stood there, watching me.
“What?” I asked, reaching for him.
“I missed you today.” He nuzzled against my neck and left a trail of soft, damp kisses.
His admission shocked me. I had assumed I was alone in the feelings I was developing for him. When his mouth met mine, our kiss turned frantic. Our lips connected, our tongues each desperately stroking the other.
I groaned. “Logan. I need you.”
He unbuttoned my jeans, thrust them down to my ankles and helped me pull them off. He pushed me back against the wall, holding me in place while he assaulted my mouth with kisses. His hand snaked between us and stroked me until I was wet and ready. Before I had to beg, he pulled his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself and then lifted me up, using the wall as leverage to hold me in place.
“Yes,” I whispered when I felt him nudging at my entrance.
His chest rumbled with a deep growl when he met my wetness.
“Are you still sore from last night?” he whispered.
I shook my head and he began moving again. I could feel how tight I was around him as he inched his way in. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and groaned, then pushed himself all the way inside. I gasped at the pressure, and dug my nails into his back.
“Is this okay?” He pulled back to meet my eyes.
I moaned in response and he smiled and began moving again.
“You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good,” he said, peppering my mouth with kisses in between each thrust.
Our breathing and groans grew in volume as we built quickly toward orgasm together.
I didn’t know what had possessed him, but he was fucking me hard, pounding me against the wall and I loved this unleashed side of him. “Logan,” I called, arching my back away from the wall as I came. He wasn’t far behind me. A few more deep drives and he uttered something unintelligible and came deep within.
He gazed lovingly into my eyes as he lowered me to my feet and dropped a gentle kiss on my mouth. “Was that okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m sorry if I was too rough with you.” He smoothed my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ears.
“Well, in case there was any doubt, I liked it very much.”
“Good.” He smiled, looking relieved. “Come lay down with me.” He tugged my hand towards the bed.
“Just let me clean up first.” I ducked inside the bathroom, chuckling at my image in the mirror. I was still dressed from the waist up, but was naked from the waist down. I wiped myself clean and washed my hands, then returned to my room to find him lying in my bed. He pulled the blankets aside invitingly. “Come here, beautiful.”
I cuddled in beside him, resting my head on his chest. I liked the way my soft curves fit against the hard length of his body. I listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and wondered again what was going to happen to us when he remembered who he was.
“Logan?” I glanced up and noticed his eyes were closed. I couldn’t help myself for being such a girl, but I felt like we needed to talk about our relationship.
“Hm?” He cracked open one eye. “What sweetheart?”
“What’s going to happen when you remember? To us, I mean.”
He stayed quiet for several minutes, but he found my hand and intertwined his fingers between mine. “You deserve more than what I can give you.”
I wanted to protest. He was kind and loving and smart, but I knew there was some truth to his words too. “What does that mean?”
“I want to be ready for more, but I’m not yet.”
He was only half a man, how could I expect him to be ready for a relationship? “Okay,” I said somberly.
“But when I am ready, I know I would be lucky to have you as mine.”
There was nothing else to say, so I closed my eyes and listened to the thumping of his heart and tried not to focus on how badly it might hurt when Logan left.
* * *
Logan’s nightmares continued each night, but now that he slept in the bed with me, I knew to wake him up and hold him until the trembling went away. Sometimes he would strip me naked and kiss me all over until I was screaming his name, lost in his caresses, other times he’d just lay there and let me hold him, but we didn’t make love again.
He also still stayed up late to paint. Painting was the only way he could express the memories trapped in his mind. Several new pictures now decorated my apartment. Most prominently featured were several versions of a white, two-story house, a few of the warehouse he was found in, and a street sign inscribed with the words Mercy Avenue with a park in the distance, but none of them helped us piece his story together any more than the last. It turned out there wasn’t even a Mercy Avenue in Chicago, leading us to wonder where that particular memory was from.
I wish I could say the act of painting brought him peace at least, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. He was tense and on edge until he finished one and then disappointed when it didn’t turn out to reveal anything useful. His pain hung thick in the air, filling my apartment with tension. I’d tried to comfort him, and rub his shoulders, but nothing seemed to help. The only time he truly seemed comfortable and at peace was when he was in bed with me at night, holding me and bringing me pleasure.
Chapter Thirteen
As a solution to ease Logan’s recent edginess, I suggested we go out to dinner. Logan and I hadn’t spent any time together out in public and I didn’t like thinking that I was keeping him hidden away in my apartment, like he was someone to be ashamed of.
I talked Logan into trying the Thai restaurant close by, the one with the golden elephant on the sign that I’d wondered about bringing him to. Logan wasn’t sure if he liked Thai food, but I explained that introducing him to different sensory experiences could help to provoke a memory.
We were seated at a cozy table in the back where a single votive candle flickered. I couldn’t help of thinking of this as a date. I ordered several different dishes for us to try, ginger stir-fry, pad Thai, and chicken satay with curry and peanut sauce. When the food came, Logan tried everything and liked it, but said he wasn’t reminded of anything.
At the end of the meal, he insisted on paying, only fueling my belief that this was a date. Delusional, I know.
After dinner we strolled down the street, occasionally stopping to look in shop windows. Things were feeling peaceful and domestic between us. Which should have been my first notion that everything was about to change.
We stopped in Grant Park and wandered around the perimeter as the sun was beginning its descent, turning the sky brilliant hues of pink and orange.
Logan stopped suddenly, h
is eyes trained across the park. I turned to see what had captured his attention. It was a beat-up silver sedan stopped at the light. A man was standing near the driver’s door passing something in through the open window to a guy in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t tell what had changed hands, but figured it was a drug deal.
My heart rate picked up. Had this captured Logan’s attention because of the oddness of the situation, or because it was part of a memory from his past?
With the transaction complete, the man on foot wandered away, stuffing a wad of cash into his pocket.
The guy driving glanced around to ensure he hadn’t been spotted, but when he saw Logan, he smiled.
“Hey, man!” The guy waved excitedly. “Where’ve you been hiding?” He looked straight at Logan.
Logan’s mouth dropped open, and a bewildered expression crossed his face. I could read the question on his face. Somehow he knew this guy?
The light changed to green and the car began to pull away, but the guy stuck his hand out the window and waved. “Hit me up soon!” he yelled out the window as the car pulled away.
Logan took off, chasing after the car before I had the chance to respond. I jogged behind him, trying to keep up.
The car sped up and was soon lost in the maze of traffic on the busy city street. Logan stopped and bent over, resting his hands on his knees, breathing hard.
“Logan.” I rushed to him. We stood silently watching each other while we caught our breath. There was so much being communicated without us needing to speak a word. Who was he in his past life and what type of people was he involved with?
He released a heavy sigh. “You shouldn’t have seen that.” I tried to make sense of his words, understand what he was guarding me from when he spoke again. “Go home, Ashlyn. Go back to your life and let me figure out mine.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and turned away, jogging until he turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
I stood there stunned and unable to move. Logan was gone.
Chapter Fourteen
The next several days dragged on at an agonizing pace. I tossed and turned at night without Logan, worried about where he was sleeping and who would be there for him during his nightmares.
I woke early and spent my days working on campus, trying to keep myself distracted. Even Professor Clancy commented on the dark circles under my eyes, so I’d taken to wearing extra concealer. This was so not like me to be pining over a guy. Except Logan wasn’t just any guy. He was a mystery to unravel, a puzzle I desperately wanted to solve, with a heaping dose of sexual chemistry. Not to the mention the deepening feelings I was developing for him despite my better judgment.
On my way to and from campus, I kept thinking I spotted Logan, but of course it was only my mind playing tricks on me. He was gone. Where I didn’t know, but I knew he was searching out clues, sparked by that guy in the park.
It scared me to think that he might be targeting drug dealers in search of information. If he was friends with the guy in that car, maybe he was a user too. But his medical records didn’t show traces of any drugs in his system. Something just didn’t add up.
A knock on my door broke my concentration and I leapt from the chair, my heart galloping. I pulled open the door. It was Liz.
“Oh. It’s you.” My face fell.
“Nice to see you too,” Liz muttered, weaving around me to come inside.
Tom immediately came in to greet her and she picked him up. “So lover boy bailed and left you here with this poor guy?” She kissed the cat on the top of the head.
I didn’t answer, but instead let out a deep sigh. The first night Logan had disappeared I’d called Liz. She’d come over to stay with me. I waited up all night for Logan, terrified when he wasn’t home by three in the morning that he was going to spend the entire night out, but by dawn, my terror had turned intolerable when I realized he might not come back at all. I sobbed into my pillow as Liz rubbed my back.
I knew she didn’t agree with my relationship with Logan in the first place, but I appreciated that she let me fall apart over his sudden disappearance from my life. It was so out of character for me that I think she finally appreciated just how much he meant to me.
I had never expected him to up and leave one day to go discover himself. I’d always imagined he’d only leave if he remembered his former life and wanted to return to it. This way was so much harder to face. He’d rather be alone than be with me. And I couldn’t seem to stop my mind from replaying the way he ran from me over and over again.
Liz’s pep talks over the last few days were comforting, but bordered on tough love. She didn’t want to see me continue to mope around my apartment, and I knew she’d only be so tolerant of me wallowing in my sorrow for a short while longer.
She lifted my stringy hair to her nose as she passed. “When’s the last time you washed this?”
I cringed inwardly. Yesterday? Or had it been the day before?
She released a deep sigh. “Go take a hot shower. Tom and I will hang out. Then we’ll go out and get a drink. Sound okay?”
I nodded and shuffled into the bathroom without complaint. It would be better than sitting in my tiny apartment that still felt full of memories of Logan.
It was too hard to be alone right now, and I needed her company, even if she couldn’t understand my pain.
I took my time in the shower, washing my hair, using the jasmine body wash that was a birthday present from Liz and shaving my legs. I felt halfway human again when I finally met her in the living room.
“There’s my sexy bitch.” She patted my behind. “You look better.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, looking at my shoes. This was the first time I’d put on jeans in days rather than my stretchy yoga pants or leggings, and I was surprised to see that they hung on my hips baggier than before.
I grabbed my purse and we headed for the hallway. When I pulled open the door, I was so stunned at what I saw that it took a moment to register. Logan sat against the far wall, his knees pulled to his chest, his head hanging between his knees. When he heard me gasp, he looked up. He looked awful. Exhaustion and stress had etched purplish hollows under his eyes.
“Logan!” I burst through the entryway and rushed to him, dropping to my knees.
He pulled me to him and kissed my lips, my face, my hair, clutching me desperately. “Ashlyn.”
“I was so worried.”
“I know.” He kissed my lips again. “I’m sorry. I had to see if I could figure anything out.”
“And did you?”
His eyes were blank, devoid of hope and I knew the answer before he spoke. He swallowed and tilted his chin up, unable to admit defeat. “Just that I missed you.”
I hugged him again and he pulled me onto his lap, cradling me.
Liz cleared her throat loudly behind us. “I guess this means we’re not going to get that drink.”
I stood up and offered a hand to Logan. He accepted it and stood. I hated how exhausted he looked, like he hadn’t slept at all in the four days he’d been away.
“Sorry, no.” I looked from her to Logan.
She nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line. She began to walk past us, but she stopped directly in front of Logan, and leaned in close. “It’s not okay to use her as your emotional punching bag. Despite how it seems, she’s fragile and she has feelings.” She poked him in the chest as she made her point.
Logan looked down, clearly embarrassed at being chastised by her. “I’m sorry. I know.” Then he turned to me and took my hand, bringing it to his mouth. “I’m sorry, Ashlyn,” he breathed against the back of my hand.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled, mesmerized by the sight of his eyes on mine.
“No, it’s not,” Liz scoffed and walked away. “Call me if you need me,” she hollered from down the hall.
I led him inside the apartment, wanting to interrogate him about where he had been, what he had discovered, but I kept my mouth shut, sensing that he needed some space. He head
ed into the shower, while I heated up a can of soup.
I laid a set of fresh clothes for him on the bed and waited anxiously for him to get out of the shower. In my head I planned out how to initiate the talk I knew we needed to have. I lit some candles around the apartment, hoping to set a calming mood. Logan needed help. As the professional, levelheaded one in this relationship, it was time that I pointed that out to him.
He emerged from the shower clean-shaven and smelling fresh. He joined me on the couch and I offered him a mugful of soup. He accepted it gratefully and sipped the warm broth eagerly from the edge of the mug. When he had finished the soup, he set the mug on the coffee table and pulled me into his lap.
I settled onto his lap, curling against his frame while he wrapped his arms around me. My courage over the discussion we needed to have faded just slightly. It felt so good to have him back I didn’t want to disturb this reverie.
“I can feel your ribs,” he murmured against my neck.
“I didn’t do so well when you left,” I admitted.
He swore under his breath. “I left to make things easier on you. I didn’t like thinking I was weighing you down, complicating your life.”
“You weren’t. I wanted you here.”
He nodded carefully. “I know that now. I’m sorry I took off like that.”
“Where did you go?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and stayed quiet. “Everywhere. I roamed the streets, talked to some dealers. I asked around, but I couldn’t turn up any leads.”
I sat up straighter, summoning my courage. “Logan, I care about you, and I can’t watch you do this to yourself. Having amnesia is not your fault. And no matter who you were before, I can tell that you have a good heart.”
He closed his eyes at my words, struggling to keep quiet.
“I want you to stay here with me, but I think you need to get some professional help. Talk to someone. Maybe get some medication. I know you wanted to solve all this on your own, but…”