Slowly, I slid up the wall so I was standing straight, my eyes not leaving her once.
Thick, wavy strands of wheat-colored hair fell around her face when she looked down at her feet. They were uneven, some long and some oddly short. But it looked soft, regardless of how uncombed and unequal it was.
As she drew closer, fatigue seemed to cloak her. Her feet paused, and she practically sagged against the unstable pole. I pushed off the wall, thinking to help her, but my movements startled her.
Her head snapped up so quick it unbalanced her. Her feet went back, trying to keep her upright, but the IV slid forward. She was left in this awkward fall/tug-of-war between her body and the pole.
I surged forward as the wheels began to teeter and lift off the ground. “Careful!” I said, shooting over just in time to catch her before she fell.
I couldn’t help but notice the way a few of my fingertips brushed against the smooth skin at the small of her back. The damn hospital gown wasn’t enough coverage if she was going to be wandering the halls.
Her hand wrapped around my forearm, gripping as if her life depended on it.
We stood there for a few prolonged moments, almost as if we’d been dancing and ended with me dipping her toward the floor. I glanced down. She glanced up. Our stares collided.
It was unsettling to realize how infinitely drawn to her I was.
I searched the depths of her round brown eyes the way I’d longed to do for so long. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. Something. Anything. A spark of recognition from either of us.
Her lips parted on a breathless gasp, her eyes the first to pull away. Long, thick lashes swept down, closing off the honey-brown irises and disappointing me.
When they reopened, refocused on my face, I felt as if I’d won an award.
“I almost fell,” she told me.
I shook my head slowly. She wouldn’t have fallen. “I got you.”
She tried to scramble up, but her body didn’t move as fast as she wanted. So I helped her, keeping my palms at her waist and nearly lifting her back onto both feet. Reluctantly, I let go, sliding the IV pole close beside her in case she needed it again.
“I’m pretty sure patients aren’t supposed to be wandering the halls,” I said, resisting the urge to reach out and fix the neckline of her gown.
“I’m pretty sure most patients have visitors,” she murmured.
I tilted my head, but then she realized what she’d said and straightened. “I’m not wandering. I have somewhere to be.”
Amused, I folded my arms over my chest. “Oh? Where’s that?”
“I’m, ah, looking for someone.”
A stab of jealousy pierced me. Who could she possibly be looking for? Her doctor! What if she was in pain, had called for the nurse who wasn’t around, and decided to get help herself?
My hands shot out. She flinched and stepped back. Immediately, I felt like an ass. “I won’t hurt you,” I vowed, hoping she heard the truth in my words. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
She laughed nervously. “I’m not scared.”
Oh, but she was.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, forcing my hands back. “Can I get you a doctor?”
She rolled her eyes. “No way. All those doctors want is to write down my every move on that damn clipboard.”
I chuckled. Immediately, I felt her eyes. Letting the laughter fade away, I glanced up.
“I’m Amnesia,” she said.
My chest tightened. “The girl with no memory,”
“You heard about me?” She seemed surprised.
“Something like that,” I murmured.
“I’m looking for someone. Maybe you know him?” Her head tilted to the side, a chunk of uneven hair falling against her chin. I noted the way she was leaning on the pole a little more with every passing moment. “The man who pulled me out of the lake.”
Me. She was out here teetering on her bare feet in search of me. The thought made me slightly giddy.
I felt my Adam’s apple bob. Suddenly, my mouth was very dry. “I know him.”
Her eyes lit up like the sun came out from behind a cloud and shined its golden rays upon her.
She was beautiful. So beautiful.
“You do!” She perked up, glancing past me down the hall. “Can you take me to him?”
“No,” I said, drawing her eyes back to me. Where they belong.
“Why not?” she demanded, putting a fist on her hip.
This time, I did reach out to fix the neckline of her gown. The second I smoothed the fabric, her fist slid from her hip and her chin tipped back so her face could fully study mine.
“You already found him,” I murmured, pulling back.
Her lips parted. They were a pale peach. I wanted to count the freckles on her nose. “You’re him?”
Shifting so I could push my hand out between us, I said, “I’m Eddie.”
Amnesia said nothing, but slid her palm against mine so we could be formally introduced. “You saved my life.”
“No,” I replied instantly. “I didn’t.”
“You really come here every day?” she asked, slightly awed. Her eyes took in my face more thoroughly now. I wondered how I looked to her, if I was familiar at all.
“They told you that, huh?” I smiled.
“I think the doctor felt sorry for me.” She admitted and leaned farther into the pole. The wheel squeaked under the weight.
“You need to sit down.” My arm hovered close in case she fell again. This time she didn’t flinch away.
“Will you come with me?” she asked.
In that moment, with that single innocent question, I realized I would do anything, be anything… go anywhere she asked.
I didn’t say that, though. All I did was shake my head.
The short walk back to her room took a long time. The entire way, I fought the urge to sweep her into my arms like the night I’d found her floating in the water. At the door, I shoved it open, holding it wide, and placed my palm at the small of her back, gesturing for her to go ahead of me.
Her eyes glanced up, then away before she moved past.
“Eddie Donovan!” A booming voice sounded from down the hall. I winced. “I told you she was to have no visitors!”
From inside the room, Amnesia groaned. “Not him again.”
Before I could reply, she poked her head out and spoke. “Really, Dr. Beck. What’s he going to do to me? Steal all my memories and thoughts?”
“I’m writing down your sense of humor,” he told her, almost fondly. “It’s very dry by the way.”
She tossed her head to the side to glance up at me. “He writes everything down. It’s insufferable.”
My lips tugged in a smile.
Dr. Beck stopped nearby adjacent to where we stood. “Why are you out of bed?”
“I told you I wanted to see Eddie.”
Dr. Beck looked at me, a veiled warning in his gaze.
“I found her in the hall.” I agreed.
“It’s just a visit,” Amnesia said. “Please. I cannot sit in this room with practically empty thoughts for another minute.”
Those words would ensure I kept coming back. Nothing, not even a team of doctors and sassy nurses, could force me out of here. She needed me.
I needed her.
“Fine. But I need a moment with Eddie.” He gestured toward her. “Back to bed.”