Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  She knows about the foster care.

  About grandma.

  The marshmallows.

  Hell, I confessed I hated cake and look she stuck around!

  The point is this, I figured you may need a story. Listen to the songs on your album, they’re here, every damn one.

  Look at the pictures.

  Embrace life, because you’ve been given a second chance with a very special person, one who wants to keep you.

  Forever.

  But you have to want her back — and right now, she’s probably hurting, so your job, your mission if you choose to accept it: be the Zane women fall in love with while singing on stage, be the guy that chases after the girl. Be the guy that Fallon deserves.

  Kiss her.

  Love her.

  Let her help you remember.

  Because the love she has for you? There’s no chance in hell it’s so weak that a simple cut into your brain would remove it.

  Go.

  Try not to be a jackass.

  Oh and by the way? That girl stole your virginity — you offered it to her, the same night, she gave you her heart. Tread lightly — hearts are breakable.

  From, Zane (pre-surgery)

  Zane

  With shaking fingers, I folded the note up and greedily searched around for my phone. My stuff was in the corner, neatly folded, my phone had to be there.

  “Come on Zane, you can do this, just a few steps.” My legs slid over the side of the bed while nausea tossed my stomach in circles.

  Five feet.

  I could go five feet. Right?

  I pushed up onto two very wobbly legs. My body felt so weak it was ridiculous. Two steps felt like a freaking marathon, and I wasn’t even all the way there yet.

  Three steps and sweat was pooling in the palms of my hands.

  Almost there.

  Two more steps and I leaned against the chair ruffling through my clothes until my hand came into contact with a cold object.

  Another note was attached to the phone.

  * * *

  Good job you bad ass, you took your first steps! No, but seriously, I’m glad you made it. The other side effect is learning how to walk again. Your headphones are in the back left pocket of your jeans. The tracks from the last few recording sessions are under the usual session folder in your music. Just a suggestion, but maybe look through the pictures named Fallon while you listen, it could help. Every little bit helps.

  * * *

  I had to give myself credit.

  I’d been prepared.

  And if memory served right, I’d only been given a few hours.

  I froze.

  Two hours?

  The headache.

  My head started to pound all over again.

  I was recording at the studio.

  The news had upset me — why was I upset about the news?

  “Baby steps,” I muttered to myself as I slowly shuffled back to the bed, pulled on the blankets and shoved my headphones into my ears.

  I clicked on the first track and scrolled over to my photos.

  The minute the first song started playing, chills erupted up and down my arms.

  * * *

  “I need you to tell me I’m worth it. I need you to tell me that when you walk away, it’s because you want me to beg you to stay. Be my addiction — it’s always my aim — to make them fall at my feet — to make them beg. Until you, I wanted it all — but had no idea of what it meant — until you.

  Say it now.

  Say it once.

  Say it twice.

  When you say it, you better mean it.

  Hearts can’t break twice.

  Hearts can’t break twice.”

  * * *

  The music swelled, calming my headache down as the pictures of Fallon and me flooded the screen. A lot of the pictures were at the house or on the beach and every single time I had my guitar with me or a pen and paper.

  A few of the pictures had been taken at sunset.

  She was looking out at the waves.

  Playing with the sand, her hair whipping wildly around her face.

  Another one she didn’t have glasses on.

  No glasses.

  And a really short dress.

  It was dusk.

  “Take me home,” she’d whispered.

  “You’re my home.” My own voice floated around in my head as the song ended.

  The very next song was about home.

  The third one was an angry ballad about fighting.

  The fourth — the fourth was about sex.

  Damn. I’d slept with a girl — the only girl — and I somehow couldn’t conjure up the memory? Seriously? Maybe if I just propositioned her again. Right, I’m sure that would go over well. “Hey, I don’t remember you but will you take off your shirt? I think staring at you naked may jolt my memories.”

  I groaned and then nearly dropped my phone as the pictures shifted into something much more private.

  Fallon sleeping.

  In nothing but a sheet.

  A selfie of both of us in bed drinking coffee.

  My guitar lying next to her naked thigh as the blanket curved around her hips just barely covering her nakedness.

  I gaped like a teenager.

  She was gorgeous.

  The next photo was a video.

  I turned off the music and pressed play.

  “Fallon, Fallon, wake up.” I plucked a few chords from my guitar and chuckled while she moaned in her sleep. “Fallon, don’t you want to play?”

  “Go away,” she grumbled, throwing a hand in my general direction. I set the guitar down and held the phone closer to her face.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re just after more sex.” She yawned and refused to open her eyes.

  I backed away and whispered into the phone. “I think I could love this girl.”

  The video ended.

  Another picture of Fallon and me kissing in a hotel room that looked familiar.

  I went back to the pictures of us in bed.

  Just as a hand waved in front of my face.

  “Shit!” I fumbled to turn the phone over and jerked off my headphones. “The hell! You scared me!”

  Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you looking at tits? Be honest, man, I won’t judge.”

  “No!” My face heated like I really had been looking at porn or something, and I rubbed my eyes. “Just… pictures, trying to jolt my memory.”

  “She wants to see you.”

  My head nearly came off my body as I jerked to attention. “Fallon?”

  “No. The queen.” Jay said in a dry tone. “Yes, Fallon, the girlfriend and marshmallow hater.”

  “She hates marshmallows?”

  “Holy shit, you should have seen your face. It’s not like she drowns puppies, man, and no, she doesn’t hate marshmallows.”

  I let out a loud exhale. “Why isn’t she familiar?”

  “She will be. The doctor said this is normal, and in a few days we’ll all laugh about this.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Good news!” His smile was bright. “You should make a full recovery, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Chin up, mate.” Jay winked. “There are worse things than having a pretty girl waiting to take away your virginity again.”

  I closed my eyes. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

  “You’ve never been able to deal with me. Why should now be any different?”

  “Go.”

  “Have fun.” Jay waltzed out of the room.

  Meanwhile, my palms were sweaty, my body was itchy, and I was suddenly very aware that I probably smelled like surgery and sweat and hospital.

  The hell? We were already together, right? So she had to love me the way I was.

  But I would do anything for a shower and cologne. I’d probably murder Jay just so I could brush my teeth.

  “Hey.” Fallon breezed in the door, her face
bright and happy like she wasn’t depressed that the first words out of my mouth had been. “Do I know you?”

  Brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and her glasses were perched on her nose, they made her look adorable, pretty and smart. She looked like all of those things, things I knew that I would be attracted to.

  But how?

  “How did we meet?” I blurted.

  She stopped walking, her gaze dropping to the ground before meeting mine again. I thought I’d upset her until I noticed it wasn’t anger but embarrassment.

  With a chuckle, I patted my bedside. “I have a feeling I’m going to love this story.”

  “Why!” Fallon looked up and threw her hands in the air. “Once was enough. Being embarrassed in front of you is kind of my thing.”

  “Is it?”

  “I’m really good at it, might make it my new profession.” Her red face was cute as hell, I wanted to touch her, cup her chin, taste her lips. She sat on my bed, careful not to touch any part of my body, and hugged herself. “My best friend is a lunatic, not fit for normal society. The first time I met you was her fault. The second time, she pushed me off the boardwalk, so you had no choice but to rescue me.”

  “I sound like a hero,” I teased.

  A light laugh escaped her lips. “Not exactly. More like, you saw a chance to get out of the house.”

  “Huh?”

  “Writer’s block. Anxiety. Screaming girls. You were all holed up in the house and used me as a tour guide.”

  “I did?” That surprised me a bit; I must have been really interested to go that far.

  “Yeah you totally paid me a million dollars and promised a new Ferrari if your first single hits number one.” Her face was stone cold, “But I declined out of the goodness of my heart.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I think you’re full of shit.”

  “Maybe.” She lifted a shoulder in a half hazard shrug. “But it was worth a shot.” Her smile widened. “You did pay me for a while—”

  “What happened?”

  “Uh, how are you feeling?” She stood abruptly and paced in front of the bed. “Do you need the doctors? More marshmallows?”

  “Fallon.” It felt right. Saying her name.

  Her eyes flashed with hope, like maybe I recognized her because I knew her name. My heart sank. I wanted to be deserving of that look.

  I wasn’t.

  “Why did I stop paying you?”

  She pulled her hair out of the ponytail and then readjusted it. “I um, well, it—” She sighed. “Things got complicated. Lines were crossed. It didn’t feel right anymore for either of us.”

  “I like lines.” I grinned.

  She went bright as a tomato.

  “Tell me about these lines, Fallon.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  I coughed. “I think I’m getting sicker—”

  “That’s not fair!” She burst out laughing. “And if you must know, we kissed.”

  “I would never stop paying you over a single kiss. I know myself better than that.”

  She shuffled her feet and looked up at me, her gaze traveling just above my head, so she wasn’t making eye contact. “We kissed a lot.”

  “How much is a lot? Like one kiss? Two kisses? Three kisses? How long were the kisses, were they timed? Was there tongue? And were we in bed? On the beach? Cut me some slack, Fallon, my brain isn’t working. Give me something to live for.”

  “You’re so….” She giggled. “You.” A frown marred her face. “But not. I mean this is you, this exchange is typical for us, but this piece is missing, an important piece, like the history of us, is suddenly gone.”

  “Fallon, come here.”

  She stayed rooted to the floor.

  “Please.”

  Slowly, she made her way around the bed. I held out my hand, when she took it, a spark of electricity filled my body like a slow burning fire as it roars to life.

  “Some of the history may be gone,” I whispered. “But the great thing about me not dying… is you can create more memories, more history, more conversations, more moments. Moments are forever, right? Look at it this way…” I cupped the back of her head. “I’m sure my old self, the part of my memory that’s not quite firing on all cylinders hates me right now, that I get to do this as if it’s the first time — all over again.”

  She frowned.

  And I kissed her.

  I kissed her slowly, testing the waters, making sure she didn’t push me away.

  And something clicked.

  Not my memory.

  No, my memory was still fuzzy.

  But my body was on fire.

  Like physically, I knew it was right, being with her was right. My thoughts might be scattered — but my heart — was owned.

  By this girl.

  I knew that just as I knew that when I took my next breath against her lips, she’d sigh into my body and clutch the front of my shirt like she always did.

  I knew that when I kissed her neck, she’d squirm while simultaneously arching for more.

  I knew that when my hands dug into her hips, she’d try to drive her body into mine so hard that it would feel like I was getting marked.

  I knew her.

  I knew her.

  “I remember your taste,” I whispered against her lips. “I remember the velvet feel of your skin.” I frowned. “And you’re ticklish just above your hip bone.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “How do you remember that but nothing else?”

  “I remember what’s important.”

  Our foreheads touched as her eyes searched mine. “And what’s that?”

  “That regardless if my memory ever comes back — being in your arms, is like finally coming home. I’m home. And I’ve never had a home — until you.”

  She gasped.

  “I’ve said that before haven’t I?”

  She nodded as tears streamed down her face.

  I kissed her again, licked away her tears, memorized her cheeks and the way they curved into a gorgeous neck that was made for my hands, my touch.

  I kissed her until my mouth hurt.

  Until I was afraid I was going to fall asleep still attached to her, and when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, she tucked her body into mine and whispered. “Sleep.”

  Fallon

  I spent a week by his side in the hospital. We played poker with marshmallows as our cash, and he wrote music — beautiful music about second chances and falling in love twice.

  His album was finished. Complete.

  Will stopped by a few times but seemed stressed every single time he was in the room. His phone never stopped ringing, and his eyes had dark circles beneath them.

  The last time I saw him, Lincoln was huddled with him in the corner apologizing about his sister, I wasn’t sure what that meant, but when I brought it up later to Demetri, he cursed for a good five minutes before briefly explaining that Lincoln’s sister Angelica was Satan in female form.

  Lincoln didn’t agree, but he didn’t deny it either.

  Slowly, Zane started gaining more and more of his memory back, but only pieces and most of them were only tiny pieces of me.

  I think the low point was when he remembered my dad’s name was Bill and my mom was Stella and then proceeded to ask my dad about hunting.

  He remembered my dad of all people.

  But not me?

  He kissed me every day, in fact, I’ve never made out so much in my life, but it never went beyond that, probably because it would be weird in the hospital bed, but it would also be like sleeping with a stranger — for him, not me.

  Will had given a statement to the media, but I knew it was still going to be really intense when we left the hospital, though I would be happy to leave it behind.

  Everyone had returned to Seaside except for my parents and me.

  “Kiddo.” My dad casually walked down the hall and held out a cup of coffee. “Your mom and I are gonna hit the road.
We’ll see you tonight?”

  “Yeah.” For some reason, the fact that my dad was leaving had me more emotional than normal. I gripped the cup with shaking fingers and tried to keep my smile normal — friendly.

  “Fallon…” His pained expression made it so much worse because I knew he was upset that I was upset. “He’ll get there. He cares for you so much.”

  “I know he does,” I said in a hollow voice. “It’s just hard.”

  “I could always chase him with a gun, see if it jolts his memory” Dad winked. “Works for the foxes.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s a nice gesture, I’ll keep it in mind.”

  He gripped my hand and walked with me into the hospital room. My mom was fussing over Zane like he was her son.

  I loved it.

  I loved it because I knew he’d never been fussed over. He’d been too young when his grandmother had died — it made me feel guilty for hating my bedtime routine in high school.

  Both parents made sure my homework was done, my teeth were brushed, both always tucked me in.

  Even last year I was still getting tucked in.

  I smiled at the memory.

  Zane would have committed murder to get tucked in at night.

  If anything, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the way things had happened for us because regardless of the relationship I had with him — I knew that my parents were slowly becoming something consistent in his life — and that made me happy.

  I would be happy that he had them.

  Even if it meant he would never have me — even if it meant I would never have him, the him I’d had before.

  He smiled at me, but it wasn’t the same teasing smile.

  He joked around with me — but he used kid gloves.

  He kissed me — but it was a kiss of exploration — not love, his kiss searched for answers — while mine simply begged to be enough.

  “Be safe.” My mom squeezed his hand and then in a fit full of completely unnecessary tears, she kissed his cheek.