The phone went dark, and I was glad. He turned it around for the Face ID scanner, and I waved him off. “Don’t. I saw.”
At my tone, his brow crinkled in concern. “Are you okay?”
Define okay. I’d gone fucking Photoshop on my face.
“Sorry,” Gray said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But you see what I mean.”
I resisted the urge to touch my ears. “You think I look… bad?”
He snorted. “The nurses certainly don’t. They seem to have no trouble finding reasons to come into your room. And we both know it can’t be for your sparkling personality.”
He didn’t seem to share their enthusiasm over my nicked and tucked face…or my personality. “You didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“I liked you the way you were.”
It felt like a one-two punch to the gut. I released a breath. “Man, you’ve gotten better at hurting people’s feelings.”
He turned his face away. “I learned from the best.”
A quick knock at the door was a welcome reprieve. I looked over as it opened, expecting Dr. Michaels or one of the nurses, and was surprised to see Detective Myers. I fell back against the pillows with a sigh. Jesus Christ. Had no one been murdered lately in this godforsaken city? She wasn’t alone, either. A man appeared in the doorway behind her, all tall and blond and classically good-looking. Her equally-as-unwelcome sidekick practically filled the doorway like a blond Superman.
“There you are,” he exclaimed. “I’ve been worried sick.”
My eyes widened. And who, exactly, would you be? I couldn’t ask, not with that kind of greeting. He strode across the room, broad and muscled in his jeans and polo shirt, and I resisted the urge to shrink back against the pillows. I knew he was going to hug me. Touch me, at the very least. Maybe even—
“Mmph!” It was about the only sound I could manage before his mouth was on mine. He pulled back, and I didn’t look at Gray, my face burning. The man enfolded me carefully in a hug, and I was glad he was aware of his own strength—he was chiseled in places I didn’t think you could be chiseled.
His hug was about as different from Gray’s as it could be. Even when Gray was angry with me and he’d given me a pity hug that I’d begged for, it felt like warmth and safety and…home. This guy was cold from his icy-blue eyes to his toes. God. What had I done?
“I’ve missed you,” the man said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His hand landed on my shoulder, and I instinctively jerked back. He didn’t seem to take offense. Instead, he smiled as he drew back. “You’re so jumpy. I guess that’s to be expected, though. You’ve been through so much. May I sit?”
“Of course,” I said, finally finding my voice. “I hope you don’t take offense at this, but…will you tell me your name? Is it Maxim?”
He raised an eyebrow as he shook his head slowly. “Where’d you hear that?”
“The tattoo behind my ear,” I mumbled, a little embarrassed because clearly, that wasn’t his name. I was more than a little tired of this amnesia shit. It was like everyone in the world knew the end of the movie but me…only the movie wasn’t playing anymore, and no one would tell me what happened.
“I have the same tattoo. We got them on vacation. There was this amazing art exhibit….” He cocked his head at my blank stare as if assessing me. “You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“Not much, no. Sorry,” I added on lamely because how did you adequately apologize to your partner when you didn’t remember anything about your relationship?
“But you remember Gray.”
It wasn’t a question. Once again, I was tempted to offer a lame sorry. But was there any way to apologize for not only not remembering your current partner, but remembering just about everything from a prior relationship?
“His recollections are spotty at best,” Detective Myers felt the need to say as she stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m hoping you’ll be able to fill in some of the blanks.”
He ignored her. “My name is Andy. And we’ve been together for five years.”
The sound of a chair scraping back had my gaze shooting over to Gray as he stood. He looked a little stiff as he nodded at me. I didn’t miss the implications of a five-year relationship with Andy. From the hurt that crossed his face, neither did Gray. I guess we finally figured out why I left him.
I felt lower than scum.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said.
I watched him as he walked out of the room. I didn’t want privacy. I wanted him to come back, but I couldn’t muster up the chutzpah to ask. Not after what we’d just learned. But damn, I wanted. I wanted our quiet nights talking long after visiting hours were over, whenever he had a break to pop in my room. I wanted him to come back and eat his dinner in that chair and harass him until he let me try some of his food. I wanted impossible things. I didn’t want him to leave me with this, this…stranger. A stranger that I’d given up the love of my life for.
Get a hold of yourself.
This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? It was just that nothing about him seemed familiar. Not his scent. His smile. Nothing. I wanted to cry. Jesus. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been pinning my hopes of something familiar jarring my memory.
Dr. Michaels came in with a smile that faltered when he saw my two visitors. “Detective, I thought you’d asked all your questions of my patient.”
You tell ’em, Doc. He might look young, but he had a pugnacious attitude, and he had no problem saying no. I’d learned that the hard way when I’d made my breakfast order. I’d called food services in the morning with high hopes and an eager request for bacon. I was turned down so fast it made my head spin. I didn’t know what that little dictator-in-training had written on my chart, but they treated me as though I’d asked for a spoonful of succinylcholine.
“We still have a bit more ground to cover,” Detective Myers said smoothly. “And I knew he’d want to see his partner right away.”
Dr. Michaels glanced at me and seemed to pick up on my discomfort. He was an intuitive man, but it wasn’t that difficult. I was pretty sure a reasonably bright cockatoo could pick up on the tension in the room.
Decided, Dr. Michaels stuck out his chin. “My patient needs rest if he’s going to have a good shot at real recovery. That’s not going to happen with you grilling him any time you get the opportunity.”
Detective Myers looked properly offended. “I wasn’t grilling him. I’m trying to help him.”
I glanced over at Andy to find him watching me. He smiled a little. The smile did absolutely nothing to warm those crystal clear, icy-blue eyes. They weren’t wide and kind and impossibly brown like Gray’s. And the bright blond hair, cut close-cropped to his head, wasn’t a favorite either. I didn’t realize I preferred long hair, but I guess I did. Or maybe I just preferred anything Gray. Andy was so coldly handsome, I was certain kissing him would be like Frenching an ice cube.
Dr. Michaels cleared his throat. “You’ll have to come back another time. Mr. Cross has an appointment with the staff psychologist in a little while, and he’s not going to be at his best after an interrogation. He needs to rest.” Dr. Michaels raised a brow to include both of my visitors. “Alone.”