I tear my eyes away from where his leg touches mine. “I’m going to need a bucket of pain reliever, but I’m sure I’ll be okay,” I tell him, clearing my suddenly dry throat. “But the good news is my head already hurts less than it did when I woke up a minute ago.”
“The doc said we have to watch you pretty closely the next few days. She was pretty sure you have a concussion. We took turns waking you up last night to ask you questions, do you remember?”
I shake my head. “No. The last thing I remember is being picked up and carried out of the woods.” I look at Ryker’s tattooed covered skin and gasp. “It was you who was carrying me! How did you guys know I was out there?”
“Your aunt called frantic last night. She told us what happened and was worried about you. When you wouldn’t answer any of our phone calls; we decided to go look for you.” I don’t miss the slight flashing in his eyes as he stares at me. “You shouldn’t run after wild animals.”
I can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes. “Yes, well, lesson learned, I guess.” I give him a sheepish smile. In the past, when I’ve tried to talk to men, I felt like I could never find the right words. Everything felt uncomfortable and wrong. But talking to Ryker is easy. I feel like I could tell him anything, and I’ve just met him. I have also never been attracted to anyone before like I am with Ryker. My stomach is in a knot, just looking at him.
“You didn’t answer me before. Why did you sleep here all night?”
“I had to make sure you were okay,” he explains, his deep voice softening. He looks like he wants to say more but doesn’t. It’s almost like he’s trying to find the right words. “I was worried about you,” he adds.
“Thank you for getting me out of there last night. I don’t know what the wolf would have done if you hadn’t found me.” I shudder.
A serious look appears on Ryker’s face, his ocean blues darkening. “I would never let anything bad happen to you. I promise.” And somehow I know he’s telling the truth.
I feel my head cock to the side as I examine him again. His dark brown hair is cut shorter on the sides and is left longer on top. Right now it is disheveled from sleep, but I have a feeling it’s rarely neatly in place. His bright blue eyes are the same color as his siblings’, but unlike the sad look I saw there at the party, a look of joy is there now. He has a light scruff on his face I love. I can’t imagine what he would look like clean-shaven, and if I had it my way, he would never shave again. The rugged look works on him.
I feel a nudging at the back of my mind telling me he looks familiar, but I can’t place where I had seen that crooked smile before.
“What are you looking at?” he whispers, his voice soft.
Not removing my eyes from his face, I simply answer, “You.” I trail my eyes down his broad shoulders and to the arm he has himself propped up with. In bold black script, the name “Grey” sits on his forearm. “Why do I feel like I’ve met you before?”
Ryker sighs, “I have a lot of questions, too, but we have to wait for Addison to get back into town. She insisted she be here.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I’m confused. What does my aunt know that she needs to be here to tell me? “Please, can you just answer my questions now?”
“I can’t tell you yet, but I promise we will understand it all soon.” His tanned hand reaches over, takes one of mine, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. His hands are rough, but his touch is light and tender. The zapping electricity travels from his touch up my arm.
“Do you feel it too?” I blurt. I need to know I’m not the only one.
“Yes, I do.” His gaze looks at my hand when his thumb runs over the thick scar that sits on my palm. “How did you get this?”
“I was told it was from the accident,” I explain, although I don’t bother to look down at the mark I’ve always hated. “It’s the only visible wound I have from that day. Well, I guess you could include the amnesia, but you can’t see brain damage,” I say, shrugging it off like its no big deal even though I know it is.
“Remi says you don’t remember anything from before the accident?”
“No,” I say, clearing my throat when I feel it begin to burn with emotion. “I woke up not knowing where I was or even who I was. Addison was there, and she explained my parents and I had been in a pretty bad car accident and they didn’t survive. I was seven, and it took a long time for me to understand what she was saying.”
“You don’t remember your parents, either?” His thumb rubs back and forth over the scar as he speaks, and I find it comforting in a way. I shake my head and feel a single tear run down my face.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Do the doctors think you’ll ever remember?”
“No, they called it retrograde amnesia, and if I were going to remember, I would have by now. It’s been fourteen years, and I haven’t remembered anything, so
