Unfortunate for me, the toilet-paper roll was on the same side as my bad shoulder. I grunted with the sharp pain when I reached for it. Paxton ran his hand down my cheek using the back of his fingers and took care of it.
“Let me get that for you,” he spoke in a raspy tone. He did watch that time. He watched while he patted me dry and then stared into my eyes, his face inches from mine. Our eyes fought each other for control, and I backed down, shifting mine toward the shower.
His hand laid flat against my cheek, and I smelled him. His scent. “This crimson in your cheeks here makes my cock hard. It’s the only thing saving your ass right now. I’m not sure you can fake embarrassment. I’m loving it. Keep that up. I like it.”
With soft lips to my forehead, Paxton tossed the paper between my legs and left me. I followed him out to my room and watched him search my drawers.
“These should be nice and comfortable,” he announced while tossing a pair of white shorts and a pink top to the bed. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the kind gesture, but I was. Paxton once again helped me get in and out of my clothes. Securing a G-string with a tug in the crack of my ass.
“You okay here for a while. Tricia and the girls should be here around one.”
“Yes. I’m fine,” I assured him. I was fine. I wanted to snoop. Find something to jar my memory back to reality. This wasn’t right. I didn’t live like this.
“Don’t try anything stupid. All the keys are locked up. Not that you really have anywhere to go.” My words were silenced by his lips and then he was gone.
By the time I had made it to the living room on my crutches, he was already leaving, backing a burgundy ford F-250 from the garage. I watched him until I couldn’t see the truck anymore, and then I turned with a heavy sigh. I opened the door and walked out, observing the front yard, the lovely neighborhood, and his workshop. The one right beside the little cottage.
Our yard was immaculate. Better Homes and Garden worthy. I sat on a soft bench below the living-room window, but not for long. Even with the roof, the sun was hot, beating down right on top of me. That’s what surprised me about the yard. It was too hot for it to be that green and pretty. I limped back inside to the cool air, leaving the humid air outside.
My own breath was heard throughout the quiet room as I looked around. Sleek prints decorated the walls. A black and white photo of the ocean and a long pier. Something shiny and silver hung with geometric lines and curves over a white-stoned fireplace. I looked at it with a peculiar stare and a frown. Wall art?
Look for a notebook. A journal or something. Gabby was always writing. I frowned at the premonition and looked around the room, like I wasn’t alone, pondering my third-person inner dialogue. What the hell? I walked around the room, paying little attention to the intuition. I wrote? Hhmph. I wasn’t really remembering anything. It was sort of like the dream. I knew I was a twin and now I knew I used to write. Two pieces to a thousand-word puzzle.
I hopped around the beautiful home, taking it all in, stopping at the two rooms, separated by a bathroom perfect for two little girls. A round tub in the middle of a pink-and-white room. Double sinks and matching vanities with their names. I hoped I designed that room. I loved it.
The cuteness overflowed into their bedrooms. One neat and tidy, filled with books and posters of dolphins. The other messy and plastered in Barbie everything. Rowan’s Barbie’s were lucky. Mine never even got a house or a pool. She got the back seat of a car or stuffed in the bottom of my back pack. Hmmm… Another piece to a puzzle that made no sense. I had a Barbie without a home, growing up. Why the hell couldn’t I remember something that mattered? Fuck Barbie and her house.
A motherly instinct moved me toward the dirty socks on the floor, but the pain in my lower back kept me from picking them up and I moved on. Next was an open room with windowed walls on both sides. Enough toys to open a toy-store took over the sunny room. My kids were spoiled rotten. Two of everything. You would have thought they were twins. The far side facing the ocean was lined with gym equipment. A treadmill, a spin cycle, a resistance band weight bench, and a chin-up bar. Adjustable, hanging on the wall. What a beautiful view to workout.
Separating the north and south side of the house was the open living and kitchen area. Another wall of glass opened to an outside kitchen leading to the pool and the backyard. The yard just before the ocean. I assumed the other side of the house was off limits. Four doors on that side opened. A beautiful bedroom decorated in black and silver. Chic and lustrous. Somebody had good taste. I smiled, hoping that someone was me. After opening the closet to nothing but a few blankets and pillows, I determined that it wasn’t Paxton’s room. Must be the guest room.