Forget Me Not

by Goodmore, Jade

  Pulling us aside, he leans back so that I’m lying on top of him on the sofa. As our breathing slows and our bodies relax he kisses my head, mumbling something that sounds like my name. His long fingers skim softly down the length of my back, stroking me into a state of bliss. I’m suddenly so tired. The alcohol lingering in my body teamed with this aggressive moment of unbridled energy has worn me out. My eyes close, and I drift off to sleep enveloped in his arms and feeling more content than I have in a very long time.

  It's dark when I groggily open my eyes and I’m cold. My hands wrap around myself desperate to regain some warmth, but all they find is bare skin. The realization that I’m naked lifts my sleepiness, and my new found awareness is shocked to find that I’m moving. I lift my head to see that I’m in Jesse's arms and I immediately relax in his presence, placing my arms tenderly around his neck.

  Stopping suddenly, he leans down, placing me onto a soft surface, a bed. My arms tighten around him as I greedily try to pull him down onto me.

  "Wait, two seconds," he whispers.

  He unclasps my hands and I hear his feet move around the enormous bed to the other side. With a sudden click I’m blessed with a dim light coming from the bedside table and he stands before me, gloriously naked, and hard.

  A low rumble escapes from somewhere deep within his chest and his eyes are fierce as they scan my exposed body. He crawls onto the bed and hovers over me before whispering, "I want to be able to see you when we make love again."

  Chapter 7

  Bright light fills the room, hurting my eyes, and I sleepily squint to I try and establish where I am. Oh. Jesse’s suite. The sofa. The bed. My mind plays a summarized flashback for me and I smile and touch my mouth, savoring the memory. I look expectantly onto the bed beside me, but it’s empty.

  I sit up and scan the unfamiliar surroundings. In front of me is a large wall with exposed brick and an intricate gold mirror hanging centrally. I double take at my reflection.

  Jesus!

  My eyes are smeared black with slept in makeup and my hair has curled unattractively with dried sweat. I jump up, wrap the crisp white sheet around myself and look for my discarded clothes from last night. If I can find them quick then I can make a speedy exit before the love of my life sees me looking like a haggard old witch.

  Rushing around has kick started my hangover. I suddenly feel weak and my head pounds with every movement. Just as I turn into the living area of the glamorous hotel suite there’s a knock at the main door. I shuffle back to the bedroom, terrified that somebody might see me like this, and then he does.

  He’s standing in the doorway to what I assume is the bathroom, with steam billowing out from behind him. Wearing just a towel around his waist, beads of water dripping over his naked torso, he’s shameless in his sexiness. I turn away, feeling unbelievably awkward considering how intimate we were just hours before. Then he’s behind me, covering me with a soft bathrobe and kissing me sweetly on the cheek.

  "Good morning. Don’t worry, it’s just breakfast," he explains, heading towards the door.

  "Oh, uh…okay. Do you mind if I take a shower first?" I ask, clearly flustered, trying desperately to flatten my wild hair.

  "Of course not, make yourself at home." He smiles at me and I sharply look away before racing to the bathroom.

  The red hot water seems to wash away the haziness and I feel refreshed as I wrap myself in my appointed soft white robe. The headache is persistent and my limbs are aching, but the smile that is carved on my face cancels them out. I don’t even know why I’m smiling so broadly, it’s an unconscious effort.

  I remove last night’s make up and cheekily brush my teeth with Jesse’s toothbrush. If he kisses me again, like I so desperately want, then I’m not about to put him off with my morning breath.

  Feeling slightly braver than moments before, I re-enter the living space hoping that Jesse won't be repulsed by my makeup-free face and wet, wavy hair. Inching out from the confines of the bedroom, I find him pacing around a long glass dining table, talking to someone on the phone. When he sees me he smiles infectiously and gestures for me to take a seat.

  Morning agrees with him I notice, appreciatively, as I take in his sharp blue eyes and his perfect complexion. Thankfully, he’s swapped his towel for a white robe to match mine, covering the masterpiece that is his body. If I were exposed to a repeat viewing before having lined my stomach there’s a good chance that I might faint.

  The room around us is like no other hotel room I’ve seen before. Its sheer size could hold two of my entire house. Included within the medley of mocha’s and gold’s are ornate chandeliers and pretentiously vague pieces of art. The carpet is so thick beneath my feet that I practically bounce across the room. The suite screams money. If I wasn’t already questioning Jesse’s deliberate modesty, then I am now.

  The table is overflowing with mouth-watering food, enough to feed a family of five. There is far too much for just the two of us.

  "Okay, I’ll let you know for sure later, thanks. Bye," he says before ending his call and coming to sit opposite me. He cocks his head slightly with gentle amusement as he examines my face.

  My cheeks blush under his scrutiny. “What?”

  “There’s the girl I know.”

  I frown pointedly at him."Sorry?"

  "The make-up," he replies, as if that explains everything.

  "You didn't like my make-up?"

  "No, it was fine, more than fine, you looked beautiful last night. It's just that, this is how I remember you, fresh faced and freckly," he says through a boyish smile. It’s catching, even though I can’t share his reason for it.

  "I look terrible,” I insist. “And I feel it. My head’s banging." I reach for a glass of orange juice and guzzle it greedily.

  "You have a hangover? I thought you said you weren't drunk last night?" He smirks and hands me some Advil that he must have had waiting.

  I sigh with relief. "Thanks." I take two with my juice. "Would I have been here if I’d told you the truth?"

  "Yes, but I’d feel guilty about it.” He winks playfully, but I don’t think he’s joking. When he spies me examining the food at the table he continues. "I didn't know what you and your hangover would fancy so I ordered everything. Help yourself."

  "Thanks, you really shouldn't have though. I could have gotten breakfast with Emma. I should probably get back soon, actually. She’ll be wondering where I am."

  Pausing briefly, he shifts awkwardly in his seat. "I was kind of hoping that you’d stay?" He reaches for my hand, but his eyes don't meet my face. Is he embarrassed?

  "For breakfast? I am." I smile, questioningly. I lower my head trying to meet his gaze. He finally looks me in the eye, his eyes wide and wary. What is he getting at?

  "I mean for a while…not just breakfast. I’d really love to spend another night with you…a sober night." He suppresses a smile at his addition, and the pressure tightens on my hand. I want nothing more than to jump into his lap at the realization that he still wants me, well, my body at least.

  "I’d really love that too…but I can’t. Benjamin’s expecting me back today," I explain through the lump in my throat. I’m already struggling with the impending separation. I don’t want to contemplate being apart from Jesse after such a short reunion.

  "Benjamin's your son?"

  "Yes," I answer, smiling proudly.

  He pauses for a moment, reassessing. "Would he mind you staying until this afternoon? We could just chill out here or maybe go for some food?" His needy eyes appeal to me, granting me some relief in the understanding that at least a little of my feelings are mutually felt.

  "I can call and check." I shrug, trying to be nonchalant but brimming over with delight inside. "I’ll have to go and speak to Emma, too. We drove in my car so we'd have to figure something out."

  Jesse nods and visibly relaxes. We both pick at our breakfast, but I guess that even with the delicious buffet before us, the thought of more time togethe
r leaves us hungry for something that can’t be solved with food.

  Unwilling to let me do the walk of shame alone, Jesse insists on escorting me back to my hotel room. I don’t know why, with me struggling down the halls in my stilettos and cocktail dress it’s quite clear who stayed where. Holding my hand the entire time and smiling lightly, Jesse seems so much less intense than last night. It’s as if a weight has been lifted and subsequently revealed a much younger, playful Jesse.

  “Shall we play knock door bunk?” he says completely deadpan, as he stops abruptly and nods mischievously to a door beside us.

  “Remind me, how old are you again?” I tease, certain that he must be joking.

  “Not too old for knock door bunk.” He barely finishes his sentence before he has banged loudly on the door. I don’t even have time to appear shocked. With lightening speed he pulls me away from the door and into a sprint. I can’t help but laugh with him, feeling both mortified at our childishness and quite free. We only make it a few feet before my shoe slips off and I stagger to a stop. As I turn to reach down for it we hear the recently abused door creak open.

  Jesse pulls me into his arms and slams us into the wall, his lips at my neck before I even have chance to catch my breath. Confused but unwilling to stop him, I surrender to his touch, closing my eyes and relishing in his freshly showered scent.

  Just as I’m beginning to close myself off to the world, to focus all of my senses on this embrace, a loud cough projects from beside us. A rotund man with a bald head and wandering eyes stands only a few feet away.

  “You knocked on my door,” he accuses, unashamedly gawping at where Jesse’s hand sits on my breast. I shift closer into Jesse’s arms, effectively removing his hand and consequently, the perverts gaze.

  “Not us. As you can see, we are otherwise occupied,” a straight-faced Jesse says, turning his body back to mine, indicating that he’d like to carry on undisturbed. The doubt is clear in Baldy’s face but he turns and stomps away, casting one last roaming eye over us before he retreats into his room.

  Jesse brings his attention back to me, although, since his one hand hasn’t left my ass throughout the ordeal, I suspect that it never really left. With wide, amused eyes he chuckles naughtily, and I shove half-heartedly at his chest.

  “You’re terrible!”

  “Of all the doors to offend, we chose that pervert’s,” he says, still laughing.

  “We? You!” I scold. “You knocked on his door so you can take full responsibility for this.”

  “Full responsibility?” he asks, amused. “Okay, okay, if they track us down and question us then I’ll tell them it was all me. Just promise that you’ll visit me when they throw me in jail.”

  “Ya’ know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

  “No, no, relying on that line as an acceptable comeback is,” he jokingly rebukes, waggling his finger at me. I open my mouth, prepared to beat him down with banter, but his finger flies to my lips and he looks at me pleadingly. “We both know you’re a clever dick and you’ll win this, so I’m going to save you the effort and me the ear bashing and apologize. I’m sorry.” He smiles sheepishly and leans in, replacing his fingers with his lips for just a second. I sigh, wanting more. “Forgiven?”

  “Hmm, I’m not sure. Kiss me again.” He chuckles warmly and does as he’s told. His lips are becoming more and more familiar, our bodies remembering how easy it is to be in each other’s arms. Being with him is almost effortless. This is exactly how it used to be.

  Pulling away from my eager mouth he exhales deeply, as if trying to regain some focus. He reaches down to the floor and grabs my shoe and then, holding my foot, he eases it into place. The comedy is not lost on us and we both laugh as we continue to my room.

  As we stand at the door like two love-struck teenagers prolonging their departure, it feels oddly familiar. I remember all the times we put off going home each night, the sweet farewells that were over way too soon. I smile privately, but swiftly relax my face, not wanting him to question my sudden wistfulness. We’ve yet to mention anything to do with our previous life together and I’m not about to open my mouth now. However, I’m reminded that eventually we are going to have to talk about something of depth. There are things that have plagued me for far too long, and if today is my only chance to discuss them, then so be it.

  “Mickey, you okay?” I nod. “I’ll meet you back upstairs?” I nod. “You have the key?” I nod, again. “Ya’ know, you’re starting to resemble one of those nodding dogs you find in the back of old peoples cars,” he says, smirking.

  “Are you calling me a dog?” I reply, feigning annoyance.

  He leans into breathe, “Never.”

  Just as our lips are about to meet for the hundredth time today, the door to my room flies open and Emma appears.

  “I have been…worried…sick.” Her sentence is staggered and her anger dissipates when she realizes I’m not alone. “Hi, erm, Jesse.” Understanding washes over her features and her worried frown swiftly alters into amusement. I roll my eyes, knowing that the second the door closes on Jesse I will be bombarded with questions.

  “Hi, Emma. It’s great to see you again.”

  “You too.” She smiles smugly.

  Jesse clears his throat, hiding his embarrassment much better than I’m hiding mine. “I believe this is yours? I found her wandering the hallway, thought it best to bring her back.”

  She laughs with vigor when I slap him lightly on the chest. He winks at me before leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “Don’t be long, Cinderella.” Unable to form any words while goose bumps spread over my entire body, I simply nod, again, and he walks away chuckling.

  Upon entering our hotel room there is a moment of silence, the quiet before the storm, before Emma reels off a roll of questions and I do my best to answer them, well, the less graphic questions at least. She’s happy for me, so she says, but her worry is still there. Despite her concern she agrees to drive my car home. My parents are happy to watch Benjamin for however long I’d like, having been told that I’m spending the day with Emma. I couldn’t tell them that I’m really staying because I can’t stand to part from the guy who once broke my heart into a million pieces. Can you imagine?

  I speak to a hyper Benji, no doubt running off of a sugar overdose, and I promise him that I’ll be back in time to attempt to cook us tea.

  Once everything is in order, I pack up the rest of my things and change into some jeans and a black vest, throwing on my thick cardigan as I leave to walk Emma to my car.

  Just as she’s about to leave, Emma pulls me in for a hug. She warns me to be careful and reminds me that she loves me. We arrange plans for me to pick up my car later and then she leaves, all the while looking in the rear view mirror as if expecting me to fall apart the second she has gone. I understand and appreciate her concern because it’s echoed in my own mind, but doused with my Jesse-fuelled giddiness, it’s easily ignored.

  The walk back to Jesse’s suite feels so long and yet so short. I’m excited but nervous, eager and yet cautious. By the time I’m at Jesse’s hotel door my stomach is a knot of apprehension. I have the key in my hand and yet I still knock. I guess that regardless of how intimate we were last night, there is still so much unfamiliarity between us that entering unannounced would feel rude. My palms are sweaty and I can’t stop smoothing my clothes and fingering my ponytail, much like a young girl calling on her crush.

  What awaits me behind this door is a mystery. My head is a cloud of questions and I sense my headache returning, induced by anxiety rather than my hangover. Does he want to talk? Is he going to enlighten me on what happened all those years ago? Is he planning on initiating sex again? I am completely clueless. I don't even know what I would like to happen. Answers are what I came for, but being in his presence is distracting. Although, if the purpose of my being here is to help repair the damage that he caused by leaving, then laying in his arms would be fantastic therapy.

  Chapter 8r />
  The door to the suite eventually opens and a twinkly-eyed Jesse greets me. He’s breathtakingly handsome, and as I take in the length of him I notice bare feet beneath his jeans. Wow.

  "Hi,” he says, softly.

  "Hi."

  “Ya’ know, you really didn’t have to knock,” he says.

  I shrug, hoping it comes across as casual. He smiles warmly before taking my hand and pulling me inside. After chivalrously taking my bag from my shoulder he gestures towards the large sofa, prompting me to sit. As if it didn't feel awkward enough, I am now sat on the couch where, last night, I had the best sex of my life. I physically shake off the images flashing through my head before I start to blush.

  "So, what did you want to do today?" I ask hurriedly, trying to dispel the vivid memories.

  "I don't know, I didn’t really think that far ahead. I guess I just wanted to be with you." He tucks his imaginary hair behind his ear and sits next to me, our knees touching.

  "We could go for a walk?" I suggest, knowing that staying here alone would be another distraction. An amazing distraction, but when I have so little time with him I need to explore more than just his body.

  "That would be great," he replies and smiles his shy smile. He takes my hand again. "Do you know the area?"

  "Mmm, not really."

  "Let's take my car then, there’s a beach a few miles out. We’ll go there." He kisses my hand and leads the way.

  "That's your car?"

  He opens the passenger door of a huge black Mustang and I laugh an ugly laugh. How did I miss it when I searched the parking lot yesterday?

  "I can't believe you actually own a Mustang."

  "Why’s that so funny? It’s a great car.”

  “It’s a fantastic car,” I confirm, wiping slight tears from my eyes.

  “I always said I would," he says, still looking bewildered by my reaction.