next to me. Her creamy thigh glides over my jeans, and I swallow down a groan.
“A tattoo?” A trembling laugh escapes her. “You’re hardly the type. Let me guess, you want Asterion’s ugly mug emblazoned on your back. You’re that dedicated to this school, I can tell.” She gives a vixen-like grin.
“Wrong. I’m that dedicated to you.” I tap her nose with my finger.
“Me? Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going to ink my face across your body. I swear I’ll never speak to you again. Besides, that’s going to be creepy when we’re finally together. The last thing I want to do is make out with myself while kissing your chest.”
“You’d kiss my chest?” I stroke a finger along her jawline.
“Yes.” She scratches at my stomach. “I will. I plan on living a long, happy life with you, Wes.” She looks down at the comforter, saddened by her words as if she didn’t mean them at all.
I glide my hand around the back of her neck and listen in a moment, hoping to get the details on why she just went from ecstatic to cliffside plunge in under five seconds.
I hear the words Cider Plains, and old Wes thumping through her mind, and I know exactly where she’s at. She’s right back in Kansas, with a version of me she insists existed.
“Laken.” I expel her name with a sigh.
“Sounds like I’ve disappointed you.” She presses her lips together. “What’s in the book?”
“Hey—” I pick up her chin with my finger. “You could never disappoint me. You do nothing but please me, I swear.” Mostly on a nightly basis in my dreams but that’s another story. “This is what I wanted to show you.” I open the lined journal to a page with a sketch of her name written out in elaborate scrollwork.
“Wesley,” she whispers, mesmerized by seeing her name laid out in such a grand manner. “Is that what you’re thinking for the tattoo?” She searches me with those unknowably pale eyes as if she were frightened for me.
“Yes. I want to. I am. There’s not a thing you can do to stop me,” I tease. “I’m having it done during Christmas break. I found this guy. He’s supposed to be the best. You can come with me and hold my hand if you want. In fact, I’m begging you to. I’m sort of a wimp when it comes to pain.” I hike my cheek up one side. “True story.”
“Wes. Of course I’ll come with you. I’m totally flattered you’d do something like this, but really you don’t have to. I’m right here, and you’ll always have me.” Her brows knit, and this time I could swear she’s about to cry.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” I toss the notebook to the ground and scoop her into my arms.
Her eyes well up with tears, and she gives a hard sniffle into my neck.
“Nothing,” she whispers, as she starts to cry. “It’s just, I want things to be like this forever.” She buries her face in my chest with her warm tears dampening my shirt.
I glide my hands up the back of her sweater and blow out a breath. Shit. I wish to God I knew how to fix this. Why would there be tears if we already have everything we want—namely each other?
God, I miss you, Wes, and I don’t give a damn if you hear me.
Hear me?
“I miss this.” She looks up at me. “I miss touching you.”
My stomach lurches.
For a second I thought she knew I could read her mind, and the idea set off the panic button. If Laken knew, she’d hate me for the sheer dishonesty. If we’re supposedly this close—practically ordained as husband and wife, then she should share all my secrets.
“I’m right here Laken. What do you miss?” I press my lips against hers.
“I’m tired of you waiting for me to get my memory back.” She blinks away the tears, her eyes as red as bloodstains. “I think maybe…” Her hand slides down my chest and crests over the growing bulge in my jeans. “Maybe if we were together—if we shared everything, then I could truly come back to you.”
I take a deep breath and consider this. I’m ready to cave. I’m ready to give Laken whatever the hell it takes to get her mind back in shape—the memory of who she was, her family—I want to give it all back to her. I’m just not sure the portal to all that knowledge is locked