Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Florian
I do not remember everything when I wake up, and when Mateo asks me nervously if I do, I must disappoint him and tell him he remains a stranger.
He does not seem horrified, which is a testament to his strength and kindness.
The apartment seems more familiar than before, but that is probably because I was here yesterday.
Mateo’s phone rings, and he turns to me.
“Hi, Daniela,” he says. “Yes, I’m with Florian now. No, his parents aren’t here. It’s just me.”
For some reason, his cheeks are pinker than before. Perhaps the apartment is too warm.
I go to the sofa and find the remote control for the thermostat in the drawer under the coffee table. I click on the remote control and make the temperature lower.
Mateo looks at me with a strange expression on his face, then joins me on the couch.
“I’ll let him know, Daniela. I have to go.” He clicks the phone off. He’s still staring at me in that same manner. “How did you know the remote control was there?”
“It’s always—” My words trail off. “I remembered.”
“That’s great, Florian. Really.” His lips are stretched extra wide, but part of him seems frightened.
And then I get it.
I remembered the location of the remote control, but not him.
How could I have forgotten my wonderful, utterly fantastic boyfriend, and remembered where I keep the remote control for the thermostat instead?
“I am sorry I did not remember you first,” I say.
“That’s not your fault,” Mateo says firmly.
“You are very important to me. I-I hope you can forgive me.”
Mateo looks alarmed, then he takes my hands in his.
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Florian. Nothing.” His voice is passionate, like he’s about to give a speech to a bunch of coal miners in nineteenth-century England, like my history teachers used to talk about.
“You are very kind.”
Mateo sighs. “All I want is for you to be well.”
“I remembered the remote control.”
“Yes, that’s great.” He glances at me, like he wants to say something. His leg bounces up and down, and I reach over to his leg. I stroke it carefully, and his leg halts its furious jiggle.
He turns to me. He looks so beautiful. His cheeks are pale pink, and his long lashes flutter.
“I want to kiss you,” I tell him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Florian.”
“Because I don’t remember you?”
“You might not like the version of me you eventually remember.”
I shake my head. “That is impossible.”
“You are a wonderful man. I might disappoint you.” He chews his lower lip. “I’ll disappoint you.”
I frown, and Mateo reaches up to my face. He moves his hand with care, as if he is wiping away every line.
“I don’t always know the right thing to say,” Mateo says. “I’ve made mistakes. And I apologize in advance.”
“You are much better at social things than I am.”
Mateo grins. “You are pretty horrible at them sometimes.”
My jaw drops, and Mateo bursts into giggles. I join him.
I do not kiss him, even though he is beautiful, even though he is mine, even though all I want is to press my lips against his sweet, pink, succulent ones.
Instead, I watch him laugh, and my whole heart swells.
Maybe it’s for the best. I have never kissed a man before, and I do not want to do it wrong. It is not like I have much practice kissing women either.
“Who called you?” I ask.
“Oh. That was Daniela. She’s the VP for Team Operations. You’ll be able to return to the ice six weeks after you recover your memory. In the meantime, you’re welcome to use the gym there to train.”
“That’s nice.”
“You look terrified.”
“I have to have my first day of work all over again.”
“You’re just going to do some training. No stress. Daniela emphasized that part.” Mateo presses his lips together. He looks thoughtful. “But it’s probably a good idea to go and remind people of how wonderful you are.”
“I am wonderful?”
Mateo brightens. “You know what we can do? Listen to some of your games.”
“Listen?”
“The doctor gave me your care instructions. No screens for you.”
“Even though I have the opportunity to see myself play in a real NHL game?”
“Doctors are totally evil.”
“Indeed.” I collapse on the couch while Mateo fiddles with his phone and pulls up the game.
“You like hockey?” I ask.
“Uh-huh.” Mateo looks at me. “I mean it’s super fast and cool.”
I nod happily. “It is.”
I lie down on the couch and put my legs on the armrest. Mateo looks at me shocked.
“You think Germans can’t put their legs on armrests?” I ask.
“Well—”
I elbow him. “You had to have seen me do this before.”
“Yes. Of course. Sorry. I was… pretending.”
I roll my eyes, then pull Mateo against me. He gives a shocked squeal, then he settles beside me.
“I won’t kiss you,” I promise. “Just cuddle.”
“You like to cuddle?”
“That surprises you?”
“Most men are too cool to cuddle.”
“Oh.” Maybe I’m doing it wrong. Maybe that’s a move I shouldn’t make. Maybe I’ve been watching too many romcoms. I should know that my boyfriend doesn’t like to cuddle. That should have been something that came up.
“Sorry,” I say, and I start to sit up.
“It’s okay,” he says quickly. “You should lie down. I-I meant… Forget it, it’s not important.”
“I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”
“That is very sweet of you. I like that you like that.”
“Well, to be fair, I only think I like it.”
He stares at me.
His eyes are so beautiful. My throat dries, and I wet my lips. I want to kiss him, but he’s right that we shouldn’t do it until I regain my memory. My heart would probably explode from happiness if I were to kiss him now. And then what would Mateo tell my parents?
I won’t put him in that position. He already had to wait by my hospital bed in that fluorescent room with all those beeping machines that seemed to go way too fast at times.
“I think so. I haven’t tried it. That I can remember.”
“Did you have a boyfriend before? Before, uh, me?”
I shake my head. “No. You’re my first boyfriend.”
“You’re twenty-four.”
I shift uncomfortably. “I know. I never told you that I never was with a man before?”
Mateo’s cheeks redden. “We, uh, didn’t talk about that.”
My lips spread into a smile, and my chest is warm. “That makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Of course. We must have had a very sexual relationship.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mateo laughs.
“I wouldn’t have been able to resist you. I would have seen you and—”
For some reason, Mateo’s eyes turn sad. “Let’s listen to the hockey game.”
He presses play and a sports reporter’s voice fills the room. Mateo tucks himself beside me, and my body warms. Our legs tangle together.
This is what I’ve been waiting my whole life for.