Lost Stars (The Jewel Project #3)

14.2|| The Memory of Tom

Tom watched the moldy ceiling, wondering why he couldn't sleep. Though his wounds had mostly healed, some of his burns stung if he moved too sudden, and functioning normally for one day was exhausting. But even if there was no more Geaneyi clinking away in the kitchen, he still couldn't drift off. Instead, he strained his hearing in hopes of picking something up from the room next door.

Angie had managed to get him the room next to hers and had left him to settle in. Since there was basically nothing for him to do, he'd dropped on the bed and tried to sleep. But he couldn't get her out of his head. The hazy look in her eyes, the way she'd cupped his face and pulled him towards as if she wanted to kiss him. And now that he stopped to think about it, he'd wanted it so much, but he'd just been too afraid.

Because Angie could tell him anything, do anything he wanted with him, and he'd be powerless against it. This weakness, this attraction he felt towards her, it only made everything worse. Yes, she was attractive, beautiful, enticing, but the knot in his chest was still there every time he saw her. Like something was wrong and he couldn't look beyond her angel smile and see it.

He needed fresh air. So he rolled out of bed and stepped out on the balcony/hallway. It was barely any chillier out than inside his stuffy room, but he'd take any improvement at that point. He leaned against the railing and looked down into the parking lot, trying to forget the look on Angie's face, his missed chance to kiss her. Why would I even want to kiss her? She was a stranger.

The door behind him opened. He glanced over his shoulder to see Angie stepping out of her room. Fortunately, she was actually dressed this time. The lone bulb illuminating the hall threw shadows on half of her face.

She walked to him and took the spot to his left, her eyes lost on the dark sky. "What's up?"

"Can't sleep," he answered.

"You should. It would help you heal faster."

Maybe, but right then he didn't care. His body was numb while his mind raced. So he just shrugged.

Angie huffed and threw him a sideways glance. "You were never the type to listen to reason. Always the daredevil. Always the showoff."

He didn't feel like a daredevil or a showoff, but her words triggered something inside him. He frowned and his fingers tightened around the railing. He could see Angie's face, only she was different. Clean, happy, laughing. You were never the type.

"What type?" he'd asked.

To say I love you.

The image dissolved, leaving him facing the real Angie who now stared at him with wide, worried eyes. His jaw was clamped shut so tightly, his teeth hurt, but he couldn't get her words out of his head. I love you. She hadn't said it to him. He hadn't said it to her. It fit with her claim that they were friends, sharing random stuff about each other. But there was someone he never said I love you to.

"Did I have a girlfriend?" he asked, his voice tense, almost strangled.

Angie just stared, her mouth opened just the slightest bit, the fullness of her lips more visible than ever. Then she shook her head and looked away. "Yes," she whispered.

Then why did she shake her head? And why did the news make his stomach twist so badly and his heart clench? "Was it serious?" Please say no.

Angie hesitated. "Yes, it was," she finally said.

"Did you know her?"

She nodded, her eyes lost in the distance. "We were... close."

Shit. So one of Angie's close friends was his girlfriend and he felt stupidly attracted to her instead. He was a walking piece of shit. Because he was convinced he'd felt the same way when he had his memory. This wasn't something he was thinking, it was a feeling, a powerful attraction.