Page 45 of Remember Me

She giggles at my words and ends up on a hiccup. Yep, she’s definitely had enough to drink. “But I’m not hungry now. Well, not for food, anyways,” she says, her thumb running along my bottom lip.

The wine is making her bold, and I need to stop this before it goes too far and we do something we can’t take back, but I just can’t bring myself to.

I find the willpower and resolve from somewhere, and—God—do I deserve a medal because I grab her hand and pull it away from my face, holding it in mine. “Lotts, you're drunk, sweetheart. This isn’t the right time.”

She huffs and folds her hands across her chest. “I’m not that drunk. I’m still me, just looser, freer. I’m trying to take what I want, but I get it, you don’t want me. I’ve seen the girls you go for.”

She’s about to move away from me, but I’m not having that. So, with the devil on my shoulder, I mutter, “Fuck it,” and crash my lips to hers.

It’s not the gentle, tender kiss it would have been last night. This one is hungry, almost violent, both of us pouring into it everything we’ve wanted to say but have been unable to. She grabs onto my shirt, pulling me closer, and moans into my mouth, which goes straight to my dick.

The fog clears for a moment, and I remember that I’m pretty sure this is Lottie’s first kiss. I slow the tempo down, letting my lips caress hers and take in the moment that is very likely about to change our lives forever. I slide my tongue along her lips, begging for entry. She finally opens up, letting her tongue play with mine. The taste of wine and strawberries is intoxicating, and I can’t bring myself to stop.

I pull her onto my lap, and by the little whimper that escapes her, I’m sure she can feel how hard I am for her. Her hands fist my hair, tugging on the strands, and I groan, the pain adding to my pleasure. My hand slides from her jaw up to her cheek, cupping it lightly while the other grips her hip, pinning her in place. The feeling is euphoric, the highest of highs, like I’ve just won the Stanley Cup. My skin heats as my dick hardens further. I have wanted this moment for so long, and now I have it, I can’t seem to stop.

Eventually, she pulls away, and rests her forehead against mine. I’m in this lust-filled haze, but everything comes crashing back down to earth when Lottie quickly gets off me and throws up in the planter next to us.

What have I done?

I rubbed Lottie’s back and held her hair away from her face while she puked in her bathroom. It was not how I imagined this evening going.

Now, she’s tucked up in bed, all that’s running through my mind is I’ve fucked this friendship up. I took advantage of my best friend. I should have said no, but I couldn’t resist. The way she was looking at me like she wanted to devour me whole, the taste of her sweet lips on mine. It was everything I’ve ever wanted and didn’t think I could have. And now I feel like the biggest piece of shit.

As soon as her head hits the pillow, she’s out like a light, a quiet snore coming from her. I brush the hair away from her face and whisper, “I love you,” before going to my own room to sleep. I think we both need some space tonight, and no doubt Lottie is going to have a shit load of regrets come morning. I leave a bottle of water and some Tylenol by her bed for when she wakes up. Bella looks up at me as I leave the room, and I whisper to her, “Make sure she’s ok for me.”

I head back outside and clean the planter, not wanting Lottie to have to deal with the mess she made of her flowers. Plus, I need to clear my head, it’s all over the place right now. My heart is galloping like a horse competing in its first race. That kiss was everything to me, the way we slotted together so perfectly like it was meant to be. It’s what should have happened the night of the masquerade ball.

That thought is quickly extinguished when I remember how drunk she was. No matter which way I spin this, I took advantage of her when she was intoxicated, even though she did tell me she wasn’t that drunk, and I believed her. But at the same time, I can’t even begin to regret it. I’ve never felt so alive as I did in those moments—and I play hockey for a living.

I sit outside with my head in my hands, thinking over the possible scenarios of what the morning will bring, and I decide to follow Lottie's lead. Even if it ends up not being the outcome I’d like. Actually, fuck that—I’ll make her see this is what I want, what I need. What we both need.

Chapter 32

Charlotte

My head feels like there’s a herd of elephants trampling all over it, and why is the room spinning? I don’t remember drinking that much, but it was obviously more than normal. What happened last night? I turn over slowly and notice a bottle of water and some Tylenol waiting for me. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself.

I carefully sit up and take the tablets, trying to rack my brain for clues as to what happened. After book club, Jake and I sat and had dinner on the terrace with a bottle of wine, we cuddled under the blanket…that’s when it hits me—I kissed him! Well, he kissed me, but only because I was behaving like a toddler having a hissy fit. He pity kissed me! My first kiss ever was because Jake felt sorry for me. But it didn’t feel like that. He must be a great actor or was desperate for some action. That’s not even the worst part, though. I remember what happened at the end of the kiss when I projectile vomited like The Exorcist all over my plant beds.

How am I going to show my face again? I am mortified beyond belief, I know I need to talk with him, but I don’t even know where I’d start. What a kiss though, and I know nothing else will ever compare to it. I felt everything: all my nerve endings sparking, butterflies in my stomach—a kiss I felt all the way down to my toes. If I had been standing, my foot for sure would have popped.

But I know it’ll never happen again. It was a mistake, I’m not what Jake wants.

Gingerly, I head to the kitchen with my crutches; I’m too unsteady on my feet this morning to not use them. Jake’s already there making coffee, and he can’t seem to make eye contact with me. I need to say something—anything—to relieve this tension.

“Rough night?” I say whilst grabbing the ice from the freezer. He looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “Of course it was. You had to deal with my drunk ass.”

“Hold on…”

“No, no. Please, Jake. Let me get this out, ok?” He nods and lets me continue. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “What happened last night shouldn’t have happened. I was drunk and pushed you too far until you felt you had no choice in kissing me, and for that I’m so sorry,” I rush out, desperate to get the words that feel like ash out of my mouth. “If we could just forget last night ever happened, including what happened after, I'd be most grateful.”

I can feel the sweat running down the back of my neck and my hands are clammy. “I know I’m not your type; I’ve seen your type. Plus, I have scars, big scars, who would find that attractive? I’m actually shocked you’re still here and haven’t run for the hills after my incident last night. To be honest, I’m surprised you stayed at all because, look at me right now: what do I even bring to the table?”

He just stares at me, dumbfounded, while I ramble on. “Ok? Good, great chat,” I take my iced coffee and make to walk away back to the solitude of my bedroom. But Jake’s hand wraps around my free one.

“Oh no you don’t." He pinches the bridge of his nose, thoroughly exasperated with my rambling. “I am only going to say this once, and once only, so listen and listen good, ok?”

I nod, staring at the floor, I can’t bear to even look at him right now.