“I hate this. I hate my brain right now,” I moan. “I can't even remember my parent's telephone number. I'd be hopeless without you.”
He gives my shoulder a quick squeeze, then turns his laptop around to face me. “Here, let's look them up.”
I shake my head and wipe my eyes. “No, we can do it after dinner.”
“No, right now. You need to talk to them,” he says. “Dinner can wait a bit.”
He starts typing their names into Google, and after clicking a few different links and following a few dead ends, their information finally comes up. Jack hands me his cellphone.
“You can go into my office for some privacy,” he says. “But maybe not mention my name or that you're here at my place?”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Like I said,” he says and shrugs, “they never liked me much.”
I nod, slowly, and stare at the phone in my hand. I can call them, maybe get some answers.
“What should I tell them?”
Jack doesn't answer me. He can't answer me. If I can't tell them I'm with him, what is there to say? That I lost my memory and I'm stuck in Redstone with a man I can't remember, but they apparently hate? I put the phone down on the table and shut the laptop.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I say. “It's already getting late and I need to figure this all out before I talk to them.”
“You can call whenever you like, Syd,” he says, going back to the stove. “Just be prepared. You might not like what they have to say. If I remember correctly, they never were ones to let you live your own life without their interjections.”
I wonder why my parents would dislike him so much. I find it hard to believe anything could sway how I feel about Jack. Even though I've technically only known him a few days, at least as far as my memory goes, he seems too perfect to be true. Maybe that's a bad thing. Maybe I'm clinging on to these warm feelings he's inspiring in me now, but there's something dark and sinister in the past.
Of course, the only way to find out would be to call my parents and ask. But, something also tells me I won't like what they have to say. Not just about Jack, but about everything else in my life.
My parents are one thing I haven't forgotten. Probably because the mark they've left on me and my life is indelible. Not even amnesia can wipe it all way. As I think about it, I recall that they've always been up my ass about everything. I love them dearly, but I remember they stress me out on a good day. When I'm far from home, suffering from amnesia and staying with a man they don't approve of, I can only imagine the hell they'll give me.
“Like I said, maybe tomorrow. Maybe a good night's rest outside of the hospital will help,” I say.
The dream from earlier had offered me some pieces; bits and scraps that maybe will help me unlock my memories. Maybe, with a good night's sleep, I'll have more dreams, something that will help me put the pieces of the puzzle back together.
“Hopefully so,” Jack says.
He doesn't sound convinced at all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JACK
“There's a spare room down here, if you'd prefer,” I say.
I walk her down the end of the hallway, past my office. There are actually several spare rooms, some of them sitting empty. I have more house than I need for just me and Gunner, rooms I don't think I've stepped into except when I bought the place.
They just sit there, unused. Most days though, I don't think about the emptiness. The quiet and solitude, the absolute peace I find up here, is well worth dealing with a little wave of loneliness now and then.
“It has a private bathroom room,” I say. “And, it's already made up.”
I can see the look on her face, as she weighs the options in her mind. Down here, she's by herself on the ground floor. My bedroom is upstairs, and if there's trouble – not that I expect there will be – I won't be right next to her. I can see in her eyes that she’s weighing her feelings. I’ve already surmised that she feels safe with me, and she’s trying to figure out whether she wants to be positioned that far away from me during the night.
Still, I want to put her mind at ease.
“I'll sleep on the couch,” I say. “You have nothing to worry about here, Syd. You're safe.”
“You won't be comfortable down here.”
“Have you felt that couch?” I ask and give her a lopsided smile. “It's more comfortable than most beds.”
“Not better than your bed,” she says with a mischievous smile.
“Do you want to share a bed with me?” I ask. She bites her lip, and looks perplexed, but eventually nods. “I mean, we can share a bed and not – you know – sleep together.”
My raging erection says otherwise, but I can force myself to behave if I have to. Right now, I have to. Dammit.
“It's up to you,” I say.
“I'd feel safer,” she admits.
“That settles it then.”
I turn off the light in the guest room and shut the door behind us. She hesitates at the end of the hallway, as if she's thinking about staying there after all. I turn and look at her, giving her a chance to make up her mind. I don't want her to feel forced or pressured into anything. I want her to feel safe and comfortable.
“Mi casa es su casa, Syd,” I say. “You can sleep where ever you like.”
Her footsteps are light and gentle on the hardwood floor, as if she's trying to tip-toe on purpose. She joins me in the living room, and together, we walk upstairs. She pauses in the library for a moment.
“Want to read before bed?” I offer.
“You remember that about me,” she says, her tone filled with awe. “After all this time.”
I laugh. “So do you.”
She smiles and nods her head. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
More than just the last few days have gone missing from her mind, but I keep quiet. She can't remember me or what happened between us all those years ago. I’d rather it stay that way, because when she does finally remember, she’ll walk out of my life for good this time.
“No, I think I'd rather talk,” she says, strolling down the hallway.
“Talk?” I ask. “About what?”
“About you. I'd like to get to know you better.”
“Not much to really know.”
She raises her eyebrows and gives me a look. “Come on, you're some lonely mountain man who just so happens to have a mansion in the middle of the woods,” she says, arching her eyebrows. “There's bound to be an interesting story in there somewhere.”
“You'd be surprised,” I say. “It's pretty boring, actually.”
“I'll be the judge of that.”
Once in the bedroom, she goes into the bathroom. Water is running, and I hope she has everything she needs. I hadn't planned on having someone stay with me – especially someone who doesn't even have a toothbrush to her name. Damn. A toothbrush.
I call out to her. “I have a spare toothbrush in the top drawer,” I say.
“Thanks,” her voice is muffled through the bathroom door.
I step into the walk-in and grab some boxers and a t-shirt, but before I'm fully dressed, Sydney pokes her head inside, catching me without a shirt and almost without my boxers. Her cheeks flush and something I can't quite identify flashes through her eyes, but she doesn't look away.
“Sorry,” she says, her voice a little ragged. “I was wondering if you have something I can sleep in?”
“Yeah, one sec,” I say, pulling my shorts up the rest of the way.
I dig through some of my old t-shirts until I find one that's not as large as the others. She'll still be swimming in it, but at least she'll feel covered, hopefully. I toss it over to her and she smiles, thanking me again. She doesn't leave right away, instead, we stand there and share a look. I feel an electricity building in the air between us; an almost awkward tension.
“Is there anything else?” I ask, clearing my throat.