The Baby Plan
Page 77
I picked up the most recent one from almost a year ago and flipped to the end. It seemed that I used to write in them all the time, only to stop for some reason. Maybe I could find out why?
The third to last entry, written in pen, was smudged, as if I had been crying when I wrote it. I read the entry twice. It was sad in a way that I couldn't imagine. It seemed that I was once madly in love.
To quote myself “my love ran deeper than any ocean.” But, despite how deeply I’d been in love, my lover broke my heart. His name had been Liam, and after three years of unbridled romance, he broke up with me. Although he tried to get back with me the next day, I refused. It seemed that he had hurt me too much for forgiveness.
I closed the journal, biting my lip as I thought on this. It was so frustrating, but even with a written account of my past, I still couldn't remember a damn thing. The only part of that journal that rang a bell was the name Liam, and that was because of my doctor, more than anything else.
Ah, Liam Morgan. There was a memory worth having. With him in mind, I dropped the journal on the floor and laid back in bed. I didn't want to confuse him with the man from my past. I didn't want to taint his good name. I was sure that if I ever had a Liam to myself, one that I could remember, I would never let him go.
He was just so perfect. Forget about his physical attributes, even though those were hard to overlook. It was his personality which made me as hot and bothered as I currently felt. Where everyone else had so far treated me like a social experiment, he was the only one to treat me like a human. He spoke to me as if he actually cared. He looked at me like no one else had. He held my hand and asked me out.
I could feel my body getting warmer. More thoughts of Dr. Liam Morgan swirled in my mind's eye. I pictured that smile of his and those broad shoulders, those deep eyes. My breathing intensified. I suddenly became very aware of how alone I was, the first time I had been, for as long as I could remember.
The hospital had given me some old clothes from the lost and found for me to wear home. Just an old pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Right then, they felt restrictive.
One thing that I was proud of was my body. You could call me pretty and that would be fine, but it was my actual body that most would desire. I wasn't tall, but I had long legs. They were strong and muscular and ran up to a firm, round ass that I was surprised to find belonged to me. Top that off with a flat stomach that was indicative of time spent at the gym and small, supple breasts. I knew that I wasn't being modest in thinking that I had a killer body. One that I knew Liam would delight in.
Lying on my bed, I quickly slid out of my jeans and top. I wasn't wearing a bra or panties, either. I loved the feeling of lying naked on my own bed, where no one could disturb me. My breathing continued to intensify as I ran my hand slowly down my stomach, creating goose bumps over my skin as I stroked my torso.
I bent my knees up and stroked the inside of my thighs as I did. My body began to shiver as my long fingers ran their tips over my moist, warm lips. Every time I touched them, an electric pulse surged through my body. And every time that I touched myself, I thought of Liam.
I imagined Liam on the bed in front of me, on all fours with his head buried between my legs. His smoldering eyes would gaze up at me while he licked his lips, until they were nice and moist. Then, his tongue would plunge inside of me, parting me open to taste me.
As I imagined this, my own fingers finally slid inside of me. I gasped softly as they dipped into my warm wetness. I moaned as they slid in and out, in and out. I pressed on the inside of my pussy, pulled them out, and ran them over the head of my clit. As they touched my clit, my knees shook. My entire body followed suit.
I stroked my clit softly, feeling it engorge under my touch. Every few moments, when the sensation became too much, I would dip my fingers back inside of myself, getting them nice and wet again before going back to my clit. As I rubbed it, it grew and grew, and I could feel the warmth growing inside of my body.
Like a fire, that sensation grew. It started at my legs and worked its way up. Once it reached my torso, it spread, engulfing the rest of my body. Although it was a fire, it felt cold as ice. My body began to shiver and shake as I continued to rub myself. I kept thoughts of Liam in the forefront of my mind. He was inside of me now. He was punishing me. He was penetrating me and making me his.
I worked myself harder and faster. I could feel the delicious pressure building inside me. It was so close. It was brimming on the edge. My entire body quaked. My breathing was destructive. I was about to blow.
And then I did.
I came hard and fast. As my body erupted, I slid my fingers inside myself, keeping them there. I writhed and kicked on the bed, turning over and biting into the pillow. The sensation was amazing. So great that once it was over, I felt literal tears dripping down my cheeks.
And as I lay in bed for what must have been hours afterwards, my thoughts were always with Liam. That was one of the most explosive orgasms I’d ever had, and that was just from thinking about him. I could only imagine what it would be like if I ever had a chance to make him mine. I could only hope that he wanted it as much as I most certainly did.
CHAPTER 7
LIAM
I wasn't used to getting nervous. It had been so long since I’d felt anything close to nervousness, l didn’t think I could feel that emotion anymore. As a doctor, I had long ago learned to suppress that emotion. I had to. When people’s lives were on the line, I had to act on my gut instinct and make decisions that might result in death. I didn't have the luxury of succumbing to nerves.
But, as I drove to Kate's apartment, I realized that my nerves were back in full force. My knuckles were white and my palms were sweaty as they gripped themselves around the steering wheel. My knees shook, and even my gut didn't feel quite right. I was one hundred percent, unequivocally nervous.
The funny thing was that I really had no reason to be. Although I had sold this as a non-date, Kate and I both knew exactly what it was. As such, I made sure to go all out.
I knew Kate better than anyone. I probably knew her better than she knew herself. Because of that, I was able to plan the perfect date. I had three years of memories to work with. Three years of discovering what Kate liked and what she didn’t. I had to assume she would still enjoy the same things, even though her memories were gone.
Was it dishonest and cheating? Probably. Did I care? Maybe a little. Should I stop asking myself stupid questions and focus on the date ahead? Absolutely.
I was surprised to see her new apartment when I picked her up there. When we were dating, she lived in a much nicer place than the one I arrived at tonight. I assumed that she hadn't been living here long. I would have loved to ask what happened, but despite her not being able to remember, I also didn't want to give myself up.
"Nice place," I said when she opened the door up.
She seemed to make a point of trying to hide the inside of it from my view as she stepped outside. She all but blocked it off from me.
"Yeah, right," she said dismissively, looking away as she did. I could tell that she was embarrassed by it. Like me, she probably wondered what the hell she was doing living there. As such, I chose to drop the subject.
"So, excited about today?” I asked. “Looking forward to making some new memories?"
I indicated for her to follow me as we began walking down the hallway, back toward the elevator.
"That depends, really," she said with a smirk.
"On?" I asked, hitting the button to the elevator.
"On what you have planned. I'd hate for my first chunk of new memories to be boring or mundane. I wouldn’t say there's any pressure, except that there’s totally a ton of pressure on you."
From out the corner of my eye, I could see her smiling to herself as she followed me onto the elevator.
"Ah, don't worry about that,” I said. “After today, you won't even want your old memories back. After today, everything that maybe happened once upon a time wi
ll only pale in comparison."
The elevator door closed, taking us down to the parking garage, where we could get the day underway.
I may have been acting a little cocky, but there was good reason for that. I had planned out a day designed specifically around Kate's interests. Ones that I knew her to have. There was just no way that she wouldn't enjoy herself.
Now, one thing I knew about Kate was that she was from a small town. She moved to New York because she thought this was the best place for her to make her dreams comes true, and she loved the city. And by that, I meant that she loved everything about it. She used to obsess over the simple act of going for a walk through the village because she was sure to see someone fascinating. She used to love sitting in the park and reading a book because she found the smells intoxicating. Every aspect of the city excited her, and it was that which I planned on taking advantage of.
To start our date, I took her to a hole-in-the-wall café that she and I used to always go to. It was called Split Bean, and although I was never a fan of it, she used to adore the place. The service was terrible, the coffee was usually shitty, and the food always tasted, at least to me, a day too old to be serving. But she didn't like it for any of those reasons. The café was located on the corner of Central Park and was known for its weird and kooky clientele.
Even as we entered the café, I could see a man in skin tight leathers and a dog collar ordering a drink. And sitting in the corner of the establishment, sipping on a latte without a care in the world, was an old gentleman in a speedo and knee high socks.
"Oh my god," Kate beamed, grabbing at my arm as we entered Split Bean. "Oh my god!" The grip on my arm tightened when a very tall man with a Chihuahua in a baby carrier strapped to his chest, walked in.
"This is a café I come to every now and then. The coffee is average, but the people watching is the best in the city."
"I love people watching," she whispered into my ear just a little too loudly. Not that it mattered. The place was so busy that no one could hear. And besides, the people in there were so used to being stared at that it probably didn't even register to them.
"I thought you might," I said with a smile as I led her to a small table by the window. There we set up shop by ordering a coffee each and settling in for a morning of watching, gaping, and staring.
It was a delightful time and the best I’d ever had at that café. Kate was like a child, seeing everything for the first time. There was a beauty and innocence to her that I couldn't get enough of. The way that her eyes opened wide at every new sight, or how she spat out her coffee when someone particularly interesting walked by, or how she kept on grabbing me whenever she couldn't handle what she was seeing. I loved every minute of it.
"So, what's next?” she said as we exited the café a half hour after entering. “I have to say, that is going to be hard to top."
"Oh, I've got a little something planned."
We crossed the street and headed into Central Park itself. I knew how much Kate loved the Park, and I knew that every inch of it would be brand new to her again. She would want to see as much of it as possible. In anticipation of this, I rented bikes for the two of us to ride.
"No, you didn't?" she gushed and clapped her hands together when I led her to the bike rentals.
"You know how to ride one, don't you?" I asked.
She turned around and slapped me playfully on the arm. "Of course I do. At least, I think I know how to. They say you never forget how to ride a bike.” She frowned. “I don’t know if that applies to amnesia patients.”
I grinned at her. “Looks like we’re about to find out,” I said.
To my relief, she handled the bike nimbly. We spent the next few hours riding around Central Park together. The café had been nice. It had given us a chance to talk. But the bikes got the blood pumping and our pulses racing. They really upped the date from a good time to a great time.
Much like in the café, Kate's enjoyment level was off the charts. Everything seemed to excite her, and she wasn't shy about showing it either. She would happily let out a scream of joy before pedaling as fast as she could toward a tree that looked peculiar, or a squirrel that she saw, or a loving couple that were making out in the bush.
She loved the way that the city met the trees, yet somehow didn’t disturb the natural feeling that the Park gave off. She loved the people that frequented the place, and she loved, well the way she told it, she loved everything.
But we weren't done yet. Not by a long shot.
"Okay," she admitted as we returned our bikes several hours after renting them. "I'll admit. You've outdone yourself. Surely that's it?" Even though she said the words, I could tell from the look on her face that she hoped that wasn't going to be the case.
"Not quite," I said, nodding my head to indicate that she should turn around.
When she did, her eyes nearly popped from their sockets, and I had to work to contain my glee.
"No!" she screamed, darting away from me and toward what it was that I had gestured at.
Across the way was the entrance to the lake that ran through Central Park. One amazing thing about this lake was that you could rent small rowing boats and take them out. They were a pain to row and frightfully expensive to rent. But I figured it would be worth it.
I did all the rowing, letting her take in the sights as she ran her hand through the water, or gazed at the surrounding trees and ducks and other birds that flew overhead and dived into the water. Again, she was like a child, witnessing nature for the first time. Even when we were dating, I had never seen her so happy.
"I can't believe that you did this," she said as I pulled the oars in, allowing the row boat to float gently along the lake.
"Like I said, after today you aren't even going to be wanting those old memories," I said.
Obviously, it was meant as a joke, but to me, it was only too serious. It had been a year since I had been with Kate, and this day only served to remind me just how much I still loved her. She hadn't changed a bit, and it broke my heart to think that she might wake up tomorrow and hate me all over again.
"So far, you're right," she said distractedly as she stared at a duck that swam nearby. "I can't imagine any memory topping this one."
"Yeah, me either," I said, staring at her as she continued to look elsewhere.
She was so damn beautiful that it hurt. I wanted to scamper across the boat and take her in my arms. I wanted to shower her with kisses and have my way with her right there in the middle of the lake. But I couldn't. Resisting the urge was one of the harder things I could ever remember doing.
Then, as if she could read my mind, she stopped looking at the duck and turned on me. There was a sly look in her eyes, and for a moment, I was sure that she really could read my mind. "So, the day is almost over," she finally said.
"It is," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
"What if I told you that I don't want it to be over?" she asked.
"If you said that, I would have to agree with you.”
"So now what?" she asked softly.
I got the distinct impression that she had something on her mind but was too shy or nervous to say it. I was nervous, too. More than I knew possible. But I wasn't going to let that stop me.
"How about we get a drink?" I suggested. "I think we have both earned one. It's been a pretty long day, after all."
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I think that's an excellent idea. Just so long as you don't let me get drunk. I'd hate to forget this day, too."
I laughed as I reached into the boat and picked up the oars. The day wasn't over yet, not by a long shot, and I had a good feeling that if drinks went as planned, then the night was going to be even better than the day. At least, deep down, I hoped that would be the case.
CHAPTER 8
KATE
The day had been about as close to perfect as I could have hoped for. Everything just seemed so perfect, as if the day were written specifically for me. It was a
lmost like Liam knew me better than I knew myself and had planned our day accordingly.
In hindsight, I couldn't think of a single thing that I didn't like about it. And even as it was happening, it just kept getting better and better. What I liked the most, too, was that it wasn't some lavish, over the top affair. Each activity was quaint and personal and something that I totally dug. That was why it felt so attuned to me specifically. It was the kind of date I would have organized, had I been able to.
And on top of all of that, what made the date perfect and incomparable, was the fact that I was on it with Liam. He was, without a doubt, the most perfect companion ever. He was sweet, kind, caring, funny, and great to look at. I felt confident when I was with him, and for the first time since waking up from that crash, I felt like I belonged. It was an odd sensation, especially as it was with someone I hardly knew, but I wasn't about to fight it.
That was why, after the date, I jumped at the chance to get a drink with him. I just didn't want the date to end.
"I got you a vodka cranberry," Liam said as he fell into the seat beside me. "I hope you like it."
The bar was a hipster joint not too far from my apartment. It was called SPIN, and it clearly took pride in its musical roots. Old records adorned every inch of the walls and roof, and the music that played was some old school rock and roll. I loved it.
"We’ll see," I said, picking up the drink. I took a sip and instantly fell in love with the drink, too. "Yep, we'll put this down in the win category."
"With the rest of the day, right?" he asked, with a smug look on his face. It was lucky he was as handsome as he was, otherwise it might have come off as arrogant. But on Liam, he wore that smile perfectly.
"So far,” I said. “But it only takes one wrong thing to totally ruin a date." I was unable to hide my smile from him.
"Oh, so this is a date then?” he asked with a grin. “Good to know that we've graduated."
"I think you've earned it," I chirped. "Your grades have been stellar, so it only seems right that you move up in the class."