Page 23

I step into the kitchen to find Ice helping himself to coffee. I have taken another cold, freaking shower.

“Good morning,” I mumble.

“Looks like you had a party in here,” Ice says. It’s a statement, but I hear a hint of what the fuck are you doing undertone.

“Just a movie night,” I respond. “Lexi slept off in between, and I had to carry her to bed,” I say.

He nods like my explanation is a giveaway. He’s usually here before Chef Wayne, but a part of me almost wants to question why the fuck he’s here so early. That would be me making it known that Lexi affects me more than I let on, so I keep quiet and make myself a coffee.

“Where’s Lexi?” he asks to fill the silence.

“Sleeping,” I answer, not about to end that with in my bed.

Chef Wayne comes in; it’s the perfect time for me to leave.

“I’ll be in my office,” I announce.

“Is Lexi up?” the chef asks right away.

“No,” I answer and leave the room. I make a quick stop in my room to check on Lexi. She’s still asleep. As I change my shirt, I hear her stir and turn to her.

“Good morning,” I quietly say, not sure if she’s awake.

“Morning,” she mumbles and turns in the bed. “Where am I?”

There’s confusion in her voice. I watch her as she looks around like she’s in a strange place and wondering how she got here. I move closer to the bed and remain at the edge. Her confused stare makes me think her memory has been wiped clean.

“Do you remember coming here two days ago?”

“I think so,” she answers, but her eyes tell me she’s lost.

“Do you remember me?”

She stares at me for a long moment.

“Bruce,” she whispers.

I breathe in relief; I’m not sure how I will explain things to her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, sorry. When I take my sleeping medication, it always feels like I’ve had a memory wipe. Just give me a moment.”

“Are you sure you are okay?” I’m concerned. She looks confused, but she remembers my name.

“Yes, I just need a moment. I’m not going to forget your name,” she says. I nod, unsure how to respond to her.

I sit on the edge of the bed, not sure if it’s safe to touch her or get closer to her. The silence is loud between us as she pulls her knee to her chin. “Where’s my bag?” she asks in a low tone. Without a word, I race to her room to retrieve the bag and bring it to her. She takes the bag and looks through it, opens the locked pouch, takes a picture out, stares at it for a moment, puts it back, and locks the pouch again.

“Thank you, Bruce. I’m okay now. I know where I am and why I am here,” she says, giving me a brave smile.

“Chef Wayne is making breakfast for you,” I say to her.

“That’s very kind of him; I’ll go to my room now.” She gets out of bed, grabbing her bag, then pauses when she sees the sofa.

“I slept on the sofa,” I say to her.

“Thank you. Do you mind if we keep this between us? I don’t like people knowing about my sleep issues.”