Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  “It looks just like your eyes,” Brian said to me, his hand on my cheek. I huddled closer to him, our bodies shielding each other from the wind that whipped my hair around my face and tugged at his clothes.

  We were the few teenagers out at High Rock today. Usually, when the weather turned ugly like this, everyone fled. But I didn’t want to go, not yet. I wanted to spend a little more time with Brian. Lately, I hadn’t been able to get enough of him. He’d been the guy I wanted to spend all my time with. I knew it was cliché, the football player and the cheerleader. It was like everyone expected us to be together. But this was for me and for him. It had nothing to do with what everyone said. It was what we wanted.

  Brian’s hand was still on my cheeks, those blue eyes boring into mine, and I couldn’t think anymore. The first kiss was something every girl thinks about. I had been dreaming about mine for a long time, but until now, I didn’t know who I wanted it to be with.

  Now, I knew. Brian seemed to get what I wanted. He wasn’t behind the way I was. He’d kissed before. But he seemed nervous around me, like this kiss really mattered.

  He moved toward me, closing the small distance that was left, and his eyes slid to my lips. I was barely breathing. I closed my eyes at the last moment and when his lips touched mine, everything fell into place. The boy I liked was kissing me. My first kiss! And it was perfect.

  Brian was perfect.

  When I woke up, it took a moment for the world around me to slip into focus. The dream had been so vivid. It hadn’t felt like a dream at all. In fact, it had felt like a memory.

  I closed my eyes and tried to conjure it back up again, and it was still there. Not a dream at all. I clutched onto the feelings that had come with the memory, infatuation, warmth, acceptance. Protection. Brian had been all of that for me, then. On that rock, the one I hadn’t visited since the accident, the boy of my dreams had kissed me.

  I opened my eyes again. I lay on my back, the covers cocooned around my body, and I tried to hold onto the feelings that swirled inside me. It was hard not being able to remember what had happened. It was also hard to know what was real and what wasn’t.

  It happened so often that my mind made up stories of its own to fill in the blanks where memories had been ripped away. I didn’t always know how to tell the difference between reality and fantasy.

  But this? This was real. It didn’t feel like the others. It felt right.

  I closed my eyes again and thought about the Brian I knew now. Muscular, fit. He was as broad as he was tall, and his presence was breathtaking. When he was around me, I felt delicate. When he’d run into me at the stadium, his body had been rock solid. I could just imagine what it would be like to sleep with him.

  I knew it was wrong to think like that about him, but my body responded. I was turned on immediately. I arched my back, felt the sheets across my body, and I became wet. What was I doing? I didn’t know Brian, not really, but the memory that I’d just had suggested otherwise. And my body wanted what it wanted. Which, right now, seemed to be Brian.

  I slid my hand over my breasts and my stomach, moving my hips. I pushed my hands into my pajama shorts and slid them over my pussy. I was getting wetter, and Brian was on my mind.

  When I pushed a finger into my slit and slid it toward my entrance, I gasped softly. I dipped a finger into my wetness and slid it back up to my clit. I drew circles around my clit. With two fingers, I skated around my clit, my fingers splitting to finger along the folds.

  The orgasm built hard and fast because I knew what I wanted and where it felt good. The memory of our first kiss came to mind again, his tongue slipping into my mouth, gentle, testing, and his lips hot on mine. His arms had pulled me tight against his body, and it had been taut, if not as muscular as it was now.

  I moved my hips, mimicking sex, fingering myself, and I gasped, breathing hard. The orgasm came in a wave of pleasure that rushed over my body, and I squeezed my eyes shut, opening my mouth in a silent scream. My toes curled, and I rolled onto my side.

  When the orgasm passed, I lay gasping on the bed in a pool of bliss.

  The dream, the memory, had been so vivid and so real, I knew it was what had happened. I had remembered another thing about my past. Things were changing. Was it because I’d seen him and spoken to him? Would that happen again?

  I hoped so. At the same time, I was terrified of it. I had started to accept myself as a person who had missing pieces, blanks where everyone else had indicators of who they were. I had gotten used to it. I was scared that changing it would feel like someone who had starved for a long time and was fed a rich diet again.

  I was scared I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Whatever happened, I’d said I would meet him for brunch. It was a giant step for me.

  When he’d asked me out to dinner, I had originally hesitated, telling myself not to go on a date with this guy who knew he had been my boyfriend when I didn’t even know that— not really, not in my memories or my consciousness or my experience— not to open my heart up to the risk that it could be broken. Or his heart either, for that matter.

  One of my first thoughts when he had invited me out was that he didn’t even know what he was getting himself into, but I did. I knew myself— the “new me,” anyway— and it wouldn’t be fair to invite him back into the madhouse that is me.

  But his face was so damn cute and hopeful. How could I have let him down? And I had to admit, I wanted to see where this would lead despite my very strong reservations. So I had suggested brunch, and it was too late to back out now, even if I wanted to, which, I wasn’t so sure I did.

  I had to get ready. I got up and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water run over my body. I felt warm, the effects of the dream still clinging to me.

  When I got out of the shower and dried myself off, I had a missed call on my phone and a message from Brian asking me to meet him at Blue Collar at eleven-thirty. I had heard of the place but never been. I typed a reply and got dressed in beige capris and a white blouse. I put on cork wedges and gold jewelry, and I was ready to go.

  And nervous. How did you have breakfast with a man who had known you for so long and you couldn’t remember it? How was I going to spend time with him when he knew me so much better than I knew myself?

  I wasn’t sure. But I knew I was about to find out.

  Chapter 7 – Sadie

  When I arrived at the restaurant, Brian waited for me outside. Everyone was staring at him, including those who walked past us and those who could see him through the window. It wasn’t every day you saw a professional football player in the streets, and Brian was the star player. I doubted there was anyone who wouldn’t recognize him.

  It wasn’t only that he was a star, of course. It was also that he was sexy, sure of himself, and any woman would be more than happy to be on his arm. So why was I so nervous?

  I was ready to see him as a man that I knew, someone familiar. When he hugged me, his body didn’t feel familiar. There was something I wanted to remember, but it had slipped away from me again, and suddenly, I couldn’t remember the dream. I knew it had been about him, but I didn’t know what it was anymore.

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, forcing a smile. I wasn’t okay. I was beginning to realize that the worst part about getting flashes of the past was the way they floated away again. Brian smiled at me, and he was handsome, but he was a stranger.

  We walked into the restaurant, and I felt uncomfortable and out of place. The doctor had said that this would happen. That if my memories ever came back at all, that I shouldn’t be surprised if they flew away again because it wasn’t impossible for memories to come and go. He didn’t mention that it would be jarring, or that it would feel like someone gave me a gift, only to take it back again.

  He didn’t mention that it would make me feel like crying.

  Blue Collar was a nice place. The walls were partially painted a deep aqua. The rest of it was beige with a dark wooden trim dividi
ng the colors. Light brown tables with white bucket chairs stood in neat rows with a chalkboard over the counter at the back, displaying the day’s specials.

  Brian was perfectly nice. He made polite conversation and didn’t push for anything about the past. He stuck to the present, asked me what I did for a living, who I was. It was like he was trying to get to know me. Not who he expected to know from back then, but like he was genuinely interested in who I was now.

  The nicer he was, the more it upset me. My head hurt, and it felt like the past was nagging at me, begging me to revisit it, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe, the walls closed in on me, and he was too close. Not physically, but emotionally.

  I needed to get out of the restaurant, but I couldn’t look like a crazy person and run out as if something was wrong.

  Brian had paid for everything like a perfect gentleman. By the time we were done, though, I was about ready to scream. I couldn’t deal with this.

  “Brian,” I said when we stepped out onto the curb again. “I can’t do this.”

  He looked at me, and the smile drained from his face. Those sky-blue eyes turned serious when he looked at me.

  “I’m not expecting you to do anything,” he said.

  I nodded. “I know that. But this thing that happened. It’s too hard for me to deal with. I don’t know who to be, and you’re being so nice about everything. I just can’t.”

  I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I couldn’t be the person he needed me to be. The person I once was, whom he had known me as— and who was gone. I wanted to apologize for everything I’d forgotten, for everything I can only assume he’d lost as a result.

  But I couldn’t say I was sorry because I didn’t know him. I didn’t owe this stranger anything, and I was the one who was lost, not him. I was the one who didn’t know who I used to be. He knew exactly. And that was part of what was freaking me out— to be standing here with someone who knew the old me when I didn’t even know the old me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not for all the million things in the past, but because I didn’t have what it took to try again.

  Brian nodded. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was carefully expressionless.

  “All I wanted was to spend some time with you,” he said. “I appreciate the fact that you were willing to try. Thank you for coming to see me.”

  I nodded. He leaned in and gave me a hug again. I breathed in deeply, smelling his cologne, trying to find something trapped in my mind.

  Nothing.

  “Thank you for brunch,” I said.

  Brian nodded and turned his back on me, walking away. I watched him go, with his confident swagger still intact, his wide shoulders swinging slightly. Even at his weakest point, since my cancellation of our brunch had obviously affected him, he still looked strong. How could I turn away such a strong and kind man? I had the inexplicable urge to cry.

  I wished I had written down my memory. I wished I could remember. I had masturbated to it, for God’s sake.

  I wished I had told Lorraine about the other memory. I couldn’t remember that, either. At least Lorraine would have been able to tell me what it was about, or she probably would have had some amazing tips to remember it or draw it back out. But now, I had nothing and no way to retrieve anything.

  I felt awful for not holding onto the few flashes of memory I had been able to get back. I had known they could leave just as quickly as they had come, and had failed to preserve them.

  Another thing bothering me was how unsure I felt about everything now. In a world of uncertainty about everything—including who I even was—I had managed to power through what had happened to me by being resolute and focused. I was not an indecisive person. Not the “new me,” anyway. And yet, I had let myself get swayed by one simple request from Brian for dinner.

  What the hell had gotten into me? And how can I get it back out?

  I was right back where I’d started, with nothing to hold onto. The very few memories I thought I had found were lost once again. It was worse than if I had never found them in the first place.

  It hurt more than usual. It felt like I’d lost something special, something rare, all over again. But I guess that’s what I got for opening my mind and heart to the possibility that anything could ever be any different for me than things have been for the past five years of my life, which were the only five years I’ve ever even known I existed.

  How foolish of me. I was determined not to make that mistake again, because I didn’t want to open up my heart just to have it be torn out by life and fate all over again.

  Chapter 8 – Brian

  I woke up feeling down and depressed. In fact, I felt like shit. I hadn’t felt like this in years, not since Sadie’s accident and then again after she had rejected me the first time around. I guess that was understandable, back then. She was overwhelmed and frustrated and I had only been making things worse.

  I hadn’t even tried to push for anything this time, though. I’d just wanted to be with her. And she had even been the one to suggest brunch.

  Maybe I hadn’t been completely honest with myself. I had gone to see her to see if there was anything left of the girl that had once been my whole world. A part of me had probably been pretty pushy even if I hadn’t realized it. Some urgent need probably showed on my face that had manipulated her into saying yes.

  She might not have remembered anything from before, or at least, she might not have remembered me. But there was so much about her that reminded me of the girl she used to be. And there was so much about her that was new and different. She had grown up. She had become more herself. The girl was gone, and a woman was in her place.

  And still, something about her had seemed so lost. I guess that was understandable, too. She had been through alot, and my memories were my most prized possessions. I couldn’t imagine what it had to be like, to lose them.

  It didn’t change how I felt. I didn’t like being this down, and I usually tried to do something about it. Being depressed just pissed me off. To get out of a funk in the past, I would donate to a charity, push to be better at my sport or perhaps took a hike in the woods.

  I would do something to enrich my life with things that weren’t about money. And most of the time, it helped.

  Today, I was planning on running it out of my system. I had training in about an hour, and I was going to push as hard as I could for as long as I could. I was going to work myself to death if that was what it took.

  I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes, letting the hot water run over my body and my face. I made the water as hot as I could bear, and I stood there for longer than I needed.

  Before long, I couldn’t escape the thoughts of Sadie that came crashing into my mind. My cock was hard and I decided that taking it into my hand and playing with it would be as good a cure as any.

  Try as I might not to, all I could think about while I stroked my hard cock was Sadie. Her seductive grey eyes. Her beautiful smile. That round ass and small waist.

  God, she was so fucking hot. I remembered how I had taken her virginity, pushing my cock in and out of her pussy. I usually tried not to fantasize about that because it made me feel guilty— feeling pleasure out of remembering the night on which she had fallen. Especially when she herself couldn’t even remember it.

  But now, I leaned onto the glass shower wall and pumped my cock harder, letting the images flood into my mind. Of her perfect tits I used to get to suck on. The way she would take my own cock into her hand and play with it like I’m playing with it now, but it was better when she was the one making it feel good.

  I thought about how I wanted to do things to her I hadn’t gotten to do. Tie her up. Fuck her doggy style. Pick her up and carry her while her legs are spread around me until I’m pushing my cock into her and fucking her against the wall.

  Holy shit. I felt a pulling at the base of my balls as my cock swelled up and then emptied itself into the shower. I welcomed the sweet release as I th
ought about her moans and the way she screamed my name when I made love to her.

  It was what I needed, even if the thoughts of wanting what I couldn’t have, tortured me. Physically, I felt a lot better.

  But by the time I got out, I was late for training.

  Fuck.

  I hurried to throw on my workout clothes and get out the door. It was time to get out of fantasy land and back to my reality of living life without Sadie in it.

  Chapter 9 – Brian

  The trip to the training facility always felt longer when I was in a bad mood. When I arrived, I looked around, searching for the cheerleaders that Sadie trained. I wanted to see her again, even if it would be from a distance.

  “Get a grip, McMurray,” I told myself.

  She wasn’t there. Just as well. I wasn’t sure I could afford a distraction. I was one of the best players on the team. I had a whole group of men that I couldn’t let down.

  “Are you okay?” Hanson asked me when we ran through the same play for the tenth time, and I still couldn’t seem to get anything right. I fumbled the ball when I caught it, got trampled when I didn’t fumble, and I was out of breath long before training was over.

  “Yeah, fine,” I lied.

  Hanson nodded and let it slide. He was a good friend. Good friends didn’t push.

  I couldn’t get Sadie off my mind. I tried to figure out what it was that was bugging me, and I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t just about seeing her again and having her reject me again. It was more.

  What, then?

  When one of the forward players knocked the wind out of me in a tackle and I lay on the grass, gasping like a fish out of water, I realized what it was.

  Sadie had seemed different before brunch than she had on Saturday. She had started off as if she knew me, really knew me. As time had passed, she had pushed me away until there had been nothing left of that sliver of the past, but it had been there.