smelled so good that I
leaned in closer, until my forehead was up against him. He let out a quiet moan
and I jerked my head back.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped,
appalled at myself. My blush of earlier had nothing on my flaming cheeks now. I
busied myself with the bowl again and waited for him to step away, but he
didn’t. I scooted over to the side, just enough to break contact with him. I
had to get myself under control. What the heck did I just do? Did I actually sniff him? Oh god, what am I doing? He’s
too young for me. I’m like some cougar. Well, no, I’m not that much older than
him, maybe more like a bob cat.
What had
possessed me? I stood there in acute embarrassment until he reached forward and
touched my arm. “I like it when you smell me. You do it a lot. It’s one of your
things.”
One of my things? Do I now go around sniffing on people? What kind of freak
had I become? I must have looked horrified because he stepped closer. “I love
it, actually.” He leaned down to me as I stood there like I was hypnotized. His
lips were on mine in the next second and I felt an electric jolt go from my
lips to my chest to my belly button. I didn’t even think as I opened my mouth to
him. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me close. I was lost in
sensation until I dropped the metal bowl I still had clutched in my hand, and
it clattered into the sink making me jump and break the kiss.
I shook my head to clear
my thoughts. That felt good. It felt like a first kiss, with my stomach
tingling, but it also felt comfortable. I realized I was holding my breath, so
I dragged in some air. Wow, he’s a good kisser. I needed to step back and look
at this situation. For all intents and purposes, we hadn’t even gone on a date
yet. It was as if someone you kind of know and are talking with starts kissing
you out of the blue. You’re surprised, even taken aback, but in the back of
your mind you’re thinking “Hmm. I wondered what kissing him would be like.” If
it’s someone good looking you might even take the thought further and imagine
sex. Or maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, I did the only
sensible thing I could do in this situation—I dashed out of the kitchen. I know
it was cowardly, but I didn’t care. I just had to get out of there, taking
refuge in my bedroom. I flopped down on the bed and tried to bring my breathing
back to normal. It didn’t work. Even here I was confronted with Carter.
There was a picture of
the two of us on the night stand, next to the old fashioned alarm clock. A
button down shirt was tossed over the chair in the corner. The comforter on the
bed was also not as I remembered. It was brown like my old one, but it was a
lot darker and puffier. I closed my eyes and tried to get my bearings. Okay, so
kissing Carter wasn’t such a bad thing. What was I freaking out about? Sure, it
was all new, but it wasn’t bad . I
could, in some alternate reality, see myself possibly becoming involved with
him. Unfortunately, I was in this reality.
The reality where I was a thirty year old woman with amnesia and Carter was my
best friend’s little brother. Well, younger anyway, he was definitely larger
than Cheryl.
So I sat there feeling
sorry for myself. I felt sorry about not working at the restaurant, I felt
sorry about hurting Carter’s feelings, but mostly I felt sorry about having no
memory of the past two years. I couldn’t remember the good times or the bad. I
looked over at the clock. Shit, the enchiladas would be ruined. I jumped up and
hurried into the kitchen only to be met with a pan of perfectly cooked
enchiladas sitting on the stovetop. I skidded to a stop. The kitchen was
spotless. Carter had scrubbed the pans, done the dishes, and put everything
away. So, apparently he was some perfect guy, he cooks, he cleans, he’s
helpful, and most importantly, he’s hot. Well, maybe not most importantly, but
it’s pretty darn important to me. So yeah, he looked good on paper, but
leaned in closer, until my forehead was up against him. He let out a quiet moan
and I jerked my head back.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped,
appalled at myself. My blush of earlier had nothing on my flaming cheeks now. I
busied myself with the bowl again and waited for him to step away, but he
didn’t. I scooted over to the side, just enough to break contact with him. I
had to get myself under control. What the heck did I just do? Did I actually sniff him? Oh god, what am I doing? He’s
too young for me. I’m like some cougar. Well, no, I’m not that much older than
him, maybe more like a bob cat.
What had
possessed me? I stood there in acute embarrassment until he reached forward and
touched my arm. “I like it when you smell me. You do it a lot. It’s one of your
things.”
One of my things? Do I now go around sniffing on people? What kind of freak
had I become? I must have looked horrified because he stepped closer. “I love
it, actually.” He leaned down to me as I stood there like I was hypnotized. His
lips were on mine in the next second and I felt an electric jolt go from my
lips to my chest to my belly button. I didn’t even think as I opened my mouth to
him. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me close. I was lost in
sensation until I dropped the metal bowl I still had clutched in my hand, and
it clattered into the sink making me jump and break the kiss.
I shook my head to clear
my thoughts. That felt good. It felt like a first kiss, with my stomach
tingling, but it also felt comfortable. I realized I was holding my breath, so
I dragged in some air. Wow, he’s a good kisser. I needed to step back and look
at this situation. For all intents and purposes, we hadn’t even gone on a date
yet. It was as if someone you kind of know and are talking with starts kissing
you out of the blue. You’re surprised, even taken aback, but in the back of
your mind you’re thinking “Hmm. I wondered what kissing him would be like.” If
it’s someone good looking you might even take the thought further and imagine
sex. Or maybe that’s just me.
Anyway, I did the only
sensible thing I could do in this situation—I dashed out of the kitchen. I know
it was cowardly, but I didn’t care. I just had to get out of there, taking
refuge in my bedroom. I flopped down on the bed and tried to bring my breathing
back to normal. It didn’t work. Even here I was confronted with Carter.
There was a picture of
the two of us on the night stand, next to the old fashioned alarm clock. A
button down shirt was tossed over the chair in the corner. The comforter on the
bed was also not as I remembered. It was brown like my old one, but it was a
lot darker and puffier. I closed my eyes and tried to get my bearings. Okay, so
kissing Carter wasn’t such a bad thing. What was I freaking out about? Sure, it
was all new, but it wasn’t bad . I
could, in some alternate reality, see myself possibly becoming involved with
him. Unfortunately, I was in this reality.
The reality where I was a thirty year old woman with amnesia and Carter was my
best friend’s little brother. Well, younger anyway, he was definitely larger
than Cheryl.
So I sat there feeling
sorry for myself. I felt sorry about not working at the restaurant, I felt
sorry about hurting Carter’s feelings, but mostly I felt sorry about having no
memory of the past two years. I couldn’t remember the good times or the bad. I
looked over at the clock. Shit, the enchiladas would be ruined. I jumped up and
hurried into the kitchen only to be met with a pan of perfectly cooked
enchiladas sitting on the stovetop. I skidded to a stop. The kitchen was
spotless. Carter had scrubbed the pans, done the dishes, and put everything
away. So, apparently he was some perfect guy, he cooks, he cleans, he’s
helpful, and most importantly, he’s hot. Well, maybe not most importantly, but
it’s pretty darn important to me. So yeah, he looked good on paper, but
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