“Second first date?” I snort.
“Oh god, tell me I at least took you out on a date before tricking you into being my girlfriend? Or…wait, I didn’t sleep with you and then you just decided that we’re together did I?”
I feel my mouth drop open again at the audacity of the question. I’m contemplating how inappropriate it would be to junk punch him right here and now when the low timbre of his laugh rumbles from his chest and spills out into the stillness. I love that sound.
“Joke, Blair.”
“You’re a dick, Jamison,” I retort in mock exasperation.
“You’re kind of cute when you’re offended,” he smirks, looking down at me.
My heart squeezes excitedly in my chest as I bask in the compliment.
“You’re forgiven,” I grin back at him.
“That’s good,” he flashes his dimples and takes a step back. “Because I’ve just realized that I have no cash on me so you’re gonna have to pay for this date,” he winks, grabs a hold of my hand and starts walking back into the hospital, pulling me along with him. His strides are longer than mine and I’m almost skipping behind him, like a little child trying to keep up with a parent. Our arms are outstretched and he smiles and slows for me to catch up. It’s then that it hits me just how much I’ve missed him.
“You know my coffee order?” he asks in a perplexed tone as I place the vanilla latte down in front of him. He’s sitting in the back of the hospital coffee shop by the window. Darkness is slowly descending outside, casting shadows throughout the deep red room. You could almost forget we’re sitting inside a hospital if not for the two other patients across the room wearing pajamas and sipping their drinks. No doubt they’re enjoying the smell of ground beans over alcohol wipes. I know I am.
“Of course I know your coffee order,” I tell him, shrugging my shoulders and taking a seat opposite him.
“Huh…don’t think I’ve ever had anyone know that.” He nods and picks up the mug, taking a tiny sip.
“I know more about you than you realize,” I smirk.
“Why do I get the feeling that I should be embarrassed?”
I let my head fall back and let out a completely undignified snort laugh. He’s watching me, amused, as I cover my mouth to mask the noise. “You’ve done some pretty embarrassing shit,” I muse.
“Really? Do you not know who I am? You must have forgotten that I’m in a band. I’m the epitome of cool.” He smirks, taking a large gulp of his drink.
I splutter behind my hand and shake my head. “Oh my gosh…ego much! You have done so many embarrassing things I can’t even name them all. In fact, I will name one.” I shuffle and sit taller in my seat. “You Googled how to avoid premature ejaculation when we first started dating,” I deadpan.
Coffee spurts from his mouth at breakneck speed, spraying over the table and dousing my face and shirt. The look on his face mirrors my own shock before it morphs to mortification. I burst into laughter and he quickly follows, his eyes glazed he’s laughing so hard, and fires napkins at me from the dispenser while trying to clean his chin.
“Smooth!”
“I didn’t say I was smooth, I said I was cool,” he chokes out.
“That’s just been added to the list, by the way.”
“Ha! I don’t believe you,” he says, crossing his arms loosely over his chest and leaning back on his chair. “There’s no way I would have Googled that. I don’t have problems in the bedroom department, Princess.”
I freeze mid-wipe and drop the napkin from my face. “You called me Princess.” I smile, and he looks confused.
“You always called me Princess. I can count on one hand the amount of times you ever called me Blair.”
“Oh, um...” he pauses momentarily and scratches his chin. “It just feels natural to call you that. I’m not sure if it’s a memory. I don’t know, I guess I can’t explain it…” he trails off.
“Don’t worry, I just missed hearing it is all, it’s nothing. Anyway, you totally did Google it. When I saw your search history you tried to blame it on Jackson.”
He nods in contemplation. “Okay, now that sounds like something I’d do. You know this hardly seems fair.” He motions between us. “Teasing the poor amnesia patient. I’m sure I know a ton of embarrassing stuff about you; just wait till my memory comes back…you’ll regret poking fun at me then.”
I finish wiping down my shirt and ball the napkins up, tossing the soggy beige pile onto the table between us.
“Ooh, Mr. I’m So Cool I’m in a Band…is that a threat?” I ask narrowing my gaze at him.
“No, Princess…it’s a promise.”
THINGS TO CHALK up as completely fucking mortifying:
#1 Asking the hot as hell chick that’s supposedly your girlfriend out for coffee, only to realize you haven’t got your wallet.
#2 Doing this after calling said hot chick to offload your problems like a total *.
Then, to add frosting to the damn cake of shame that you’ve just baked…