I finally find the willpower to pull away completely and look at her. We don’t speak; there’s no need to. I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to; I’m turned on to hell and completely confused with this whole situation. My chest hurts, but I think it’s in a good way and I have to focus on calming myself down and trying to regain the breath she’s just stolen from me. I’m still reeling in the sensations of our actions; it’s never been like this before. She closes her eyes, and I watch her, waiting for her to do or say something—anything.
I know that this isn’t our first kiss, or at least I’m assuming it isn’t. But damn, it definitely feels like it to me. No kiss has ever tasted or felt that good. I’m trembling from head to toe, and that’s certainly not something I’m used to. She’s reduced me to thinking like a chick, over analyzing everything, I stare at her mouth that’s all bruised from our kiss and smile internally. There’s no wonder I made this girl mine; I feel like I could kiss her forever.
When her eyes finally open, they’re glistening with unshed tears. I tense as I wait for her to get mad and start shouting at me. Worse still, she could reject me and ask me what made me think I could kiss her like that.
“Hi,” she whispers, “I’ve missed you.”
Thank you, god! I let out a long exhale.
“Blair,” I pull her into my chest and rest my chin on the top of her head. I sigh as I squeeze and pull her tighter to me, inhaling her as I push my face into her hair.
“I know I don’t remember us yet…but I’m pretty sure that I’ve missed you too.”
“MISS THOMAS,” THE burly male officer states as I walk back into the stark, sterile confines of my room. One of the nursing staff had come to track me down; she’d interrupted Ethan and I to tell me that there were two police officers wanting to speak with me about the accident. It’s the last thing I wanted to do as I was sitting wrapped up in Ethan’s embrace, but I knew it was coming.
I offer a weak smile as I sit down on the bed nervously. My mom and a female officer enter the room seconds later; Mom perches on the end of the bed as the officer pulls the only remaining chair in the room closer to us. The feet drag and bounce across the floor, letting out a horrid screech that echoes through the eerie silence.
“Miss Thomas,” the officer begins again. “I’m Officer Murphy, this is Officer Speight,” he motions to his female colleague. “We’d like to ask you some questions regarding the accident you were involved in, if you’re feeling up to it?”
“Sure,” I answer, looking at my mom for confirmation. I’m not even certain why. She seems to sense my unease and shifts closer to me, placing her hand on my leg that’s bouncing wildly. What is it about moms? One simple touch has the power of complete reassurance. I exhale and try to let go of the anxiety that’s been steadily building in the pit of my stomach as I walked back from Ethan’s room.
“Excellent; let's get straight to it, then,” he says, taking a pen from his crumpled white shirt pocket. He proceeds to scrawl illegibly across the clipboard resting on his knee. His pant leg is bunched up and I can see the black and green sock he’s wearing with a huge L for left on it. I like it; in a strange way it makes him seem more human.
The questions start thick and fast, hammering down like a torrent of rain from a pregnant grey storm cloud. I’m interrogated for over two hours about every single aspect of the accident that I can recall. Why were we in Arizona? What happened at the bar the night before? I have no qualms about telling the officers that Frank stopped the car in the middle of the road to pick a fight with Ethan. My mom sits quietly by my side with a pained expression as I retell the argument Frank and Ethan were engaged in when the trucker hit us.