"You're awake." His voice was smooth, like warm honey. It made my skin tingle and my toes curl.
Who was this man?
As my mind asked the question, I realized he was alone with me. We were in a room I didn't recognize and he had just stepped from the shower. Oh holey moly...did I sleep with him? Surely, I would remember something like that...with him! A blush crept into my face as I stared at him without the ability to look away. He held me captive with the intensity of his blue eyes. I had never been so...speechless.
"Olivia, are you all right?" The man moved quickly across the room and my eyes fell to his chest. His shoulders were broad and his arms were thick. I wondered what it would feel like to curl into his chest with his arms wrapped around me.
I shook the thought from my mind and my eyes dropped lower, trailing down his golden abs to his hips. Goodness gracious, he was just divine. Every sculptured curve of this mans body had been carved with exact precision. He was glorious. Magnificent. Seraphic. He was perfect.
I thanked the heavens he was wearing pants. The black slacks hung low on his sculpted hips and I stared at the line where the material hugged his skin. I wanted to trail the tip of my finger along the line of fabric that met with his skin and I thanked small mercies my body was simply too sore to follow through with its instinctual desire. If this man didn't step away from me, surely, I would humiliate myself without chance of redemption.
"How are you feeling?" He asked gruffly, as he leaned over the bed so he could look over my face with close inspection. Had I seriously been so drunk that I warranted his piercing concern? What was he doing? And who was he?
"I'm fine." I finally mustered.
He leaned over the bed and pressed a little button. My eyes followed his movement and that's when I saw it. There was an IV in my arm. I was in a hospital. A man I didn't recognize was with me and I couldn't remember anything. How old was I? Was I missing years of my life? Who was this man to me? I didn't know him...but he knew me. I had heard of things like this happening. I had heard of people waking up from a trauma and being unable to remember a thing about their lives. Was this man my husband? My heart rate spiked and the monitor that sat next to the bed began beeping irregularly.
His blue eyes flashed to mine and worry pinched his expression. "What is it? Are you all right?"
Oh God, he was worried about me. Who the hell was he? My palms were sweating and my stomach ached from the bundle of nerves that had gathered like a flock of butterflies. If he was my husband...well, then I didn't do a bad job in picking him from the crowd. The problem was I couldn't remember him. I couldn't remember anything about him. Surely, I would remember his eyes...no matter the trauma I had endured?
"How old am I?" I whispered. Emotion cracked in my voice, as I tried, desperately, to recall something about this man.
His eyes widened. "Fuck," he leaned over and pressed the button again. "You don't remember how old you are?"
I shook my head and my eyes filled with tears I was determined not to let slide from my eyes. "Who are you? Where is Trisha?"
Relief washed over his face. "You remember Trisha?"
"Of course," I squeaked. I couldn't stop staring at him. "I don't know you."
His perfect mouth opened at the same time the door opened and a doctor rushed into the space, commanding it.
The mans blue eyes focused on the doctor. "She doesn't know how old she is."
My eyes swept over the nametag clipped to the white jacket, Dr. D. Bower. "What happened?" I asked, panic started to filter into my voice.
He held up his hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?" His voice was filled with unquestionable authority.
"I-um three." I answered.
Blue eyes shifted his stance as he watched Dr. D. Bower pull a small tube-like object from the pocket of his jacket. "David, I had her moved here because you are the best," Blue eyes spoke roughly. His voice was thick with restrained emotion. "Why can't she remember how old she is?"
He was on a first name basis with the doctor? What did he mean, he had had me moved here? Did that mean blue-eyes was indeed, my husband? Oh, good lord.
"Jace, you need to keep calm." David spoke with a clipped tone. "Sometimes the mind needs time to recuperate."
I looked back and forth between Jace and David and hoped I might hold just an ounce of recognition for either of them, but there was nothing. I had nothing.
I couldn't hold my questions in a moment longer. I needed answers. I looked to Jace and blurted, "Are we married?"
His brows plunged high, almost to his hairline, as he stared at me in astonishment. "Pardon me?"
I set my eyes on him, hoping they were stern and unwavering. "Are we married? I don't recognize you at all...but, it appears you know me. I don't remember anything about our life together."