“Gray,” I said softly.
I saw the moment he capitulated. My heart thumped beneath my ribs like a wild, caged thing. And just as those pink, soft lips came within a hair’s breadth of mine, the door opened. Gray yanked back so fast and unexpectedly that I almost forgot to let go of my grip on his shirt. His pocket ripped a little.
We turned to see a man at the door. He was sharply dressed, what with the vest and expensive watch and slicked, styled hair. He was a little too GQ for my tastes, but undeniably handsome. And furious. When I looked at Gray’s face, I saw that his guilty expression matched mine—I wasn’t sure what I was guilty of at the moment, but the tension in the room was palpable.
“What the hell is going on here?” the man demanded.
“He’s not my doctor,” I ventured, just in case this man was a hospital administrator or something.
Gray ran a hand through his hair as they both ignored me. “Calm down, Dev. I was helping him.” He seemed briefly at a loss to describe how almost kissing me was helping me. “I was helping him,” he repeated firmly.
“Yeah, I saw exactly what you were helping him with.”
My brow furrowed. It was a toss-up which I liked less—what he was saying or the way he was saying it. I was also beyond annoyed that I’d been this close to kissing Gray and we’d been interrupted. “What business of it is yours? He’s my boyfriend.”
The man sneered at me. “No, he’s not. He hasn’t been your boyfriend for four goddamned years. And now you waltz in here stirring up old memories and pull Gray in again.”
I blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You know just what the fuck I’m talking about.”
“Devin,” Gray snapped. “Now is not the time.”
I turned to Gray, but he wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he was locked in an eye battle with Devin, and Gray looked pissed. He didn’t get mad very often, but when he did, it was wise to just get the hell out of his way. Maybe that was because he didn’t fly off the handle regularly. I was pretty sure he just stored up his anger, like a camel with a hump full of rage.
“I need to talk to you outside,” Gray finally managed through a jaw so tight that I worried for his teeth.
It was Devin’s turn to look slightly guilty. He opened his mouth and then closed it. In the end, he simply turned on his heel and exited the room without another word. Gray sent me an unreadable look before he followed with a terse, “Be right back.”
I nodded like a puppet on a string, my stomach in knots. I knew without asking that what Devin had said was true. That single statement made everything make sense. I didn’t like it, but that didn’t make it any less real.
Gray’s gentle murmur drifted in my ears. “He’s supposed to remember in his own time.”
Devin’s louder voice followed. “That’s fine as long as he’s not trying to kiss you, honey.”
Gray said something else, but I was stuck on that single word. Honey. God, that hurt. That hurt worse than when I first woke up with a scalp full of stitches. I’d rather experience that hurt a million times over rather than hear that Gray and I weren’t together anymore. No, worse than that. Gray had moved on with someone else.
Another memory assailed me, so sharp and fresh I could almost taste it. Gray and I were together on a beach at dusk, sitting on the sand. He was slightly in front of me, and even though we were about the same height, the way he was positioned allowed his head to notch directly under my chin. I buried my nose in his silky, long waves, taking a deep lungful of him. He smelled like salty sea air and clean sweat and passionfruit shampoo.
Fireworks went off suddenly, and we both jumped a little in surprise. Then we shared a laugh. You and me, Gray, I murmured in his hair. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. You know that?
I could feel his smile. I love it when you tell me things I already know.
I blinked, and the image faded. The beach was gone and the sound of the fireworks. I was back in my sterile hospital room, wisps and tendrils of what used to be slipping through the room vents like smoke.
The brain was a marvelous, horrible thing. I could remember exactly how Gray smelled at a random Fourth of July picnic, but not that we weren’t together anymore. And while I was filing mental gripes, I was still drawing a blank on who shot me in the head. Excellent. Way to determine what’s useful and what’s not, Brain. Keep up the good work.
Gray came back into the room alone. He stopped a foot short of my bed, staring at me as if he didn’t quite know what to say. His mouth was a little bruised as if he’d been kissed. Hard. Not by me. Never again by me. God, how could the hurt keep getting worse?
He ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair. My fingers itched to do the same, especially now that I knew I couldn’t. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.
He had nothing to be sorry for. He’d gone above and beyond for an ex that was confused and, apparently, stuck in the past. And even though I didn’t remember why we broke up, I had a feeling whose fault it was. Probably the guy who’d been dumped in the emergency room parking lot with nothing but the clothes on his back and a hole in his skull. Not Mr. Stability with the kind whiskey eyes and perpetually pink cheeks.
“We’re not together anymore?” I asked dully.
“No.” His voice was quiet.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dr. Michaels thought it would be best if I didn’t. If you remembered on your own, great. But in the meantime—”
“In the meantime, what?” I shook my head in disbelief. “What if I never remembered? Would you bring the crazy ex along on your honeymoon so I wouldn’t feel bad?” A laugh burbled up in my throat at a situation that was in no way funny. “What is wrong with you?”
That ignited Gray’s temper as he shelved the remorse. “I’m pretty sure I should be the one asking that question,” he snapped. “You come in here, half-dead and out of your mind calling my name. You disrupt my relationship and my life, and I let you because you’re Christian fucking Cross, and I always drop everything for Christian fucking Cross.”
Yep. A camel storing anger in his hump. And I really didn’t like the way he said my name. “What? Nothing to say to that?” he demanded.
I raised an eyebrow. “Only that I hope my middle name isn’t truly ‘fucking.’ That will be awkward when I reapply for my driver’s license.”
He sighed, already looking a little less angry now that he’d emptied his rage hump. “Go ahead. Make your jokes. You always do.”
“You don’t get to be upset with me, Gray,” I shot back. “You seemed to have no trouble finding my replacement. You’re not that heartbroken.”
“Excuse me?”
“Shit, I know the breakup is long over for you. But cut me some fucking slack. For me, it just happened a few minutes ago. And you were obviously outside kissing that guy.” I let out a breath. “Someone just dealt me a crapload of shitty-ass cards, and I’m trying to figure out how to play my hand.”
“You left me, Chris,” he said softly. “You don’t get to be upset about it.”
I left…. My mouth fell open. Just when I thought the shock was over. “I would’ve never.”