Chapter 12
I'm Not That Girl Anymore
“I can’t believe I just ran seven miles,” I pant out, my hands braced on my knees as sweat pours down my face and back.
The man next to me jogs in place looking fresh as a daisy. I, however, look like I just ran through a car wash in the middle of a hurricane.
“Seriously, Julien. You do this every morning?” My legs begin to tremble, so I plop down onto the grass
Sitting down beside me, Julien reaches over to pull me to his side despite my protests of being sweaty and gross. “I can do ten miles in an hour’s time,” he brags, and I smack his arm.
“Show off. I think I may need a few minutes before I’m able to stand back up.”
Like the stupid girl I am, when Julien invited me to come with him for his five a.m. run this morning, I was more than happy to say yes, even though it meant I would have to wake up at four-thirty.
I started running several times a week a few months ago as a way to get back in shape after the doctors cleared me to resume physical activity.
I can do four miles easily; however, I overestimated my level of fitness.
At four-and-a-half miles, Julien had to turn into a drill sergeant to get me to do one more, and then he resorted to bribes.
I start to tally up the prizes he promised to give me if I finished. “Let’s see. You owe me not only a night of karaoke at Belly’s,” —he groans at this— “but also a dinner of my choice and a rom-com movie. Am I leaving anything out?”
“The T-shirt.”
I collapse into a fit of laughter. “How could I forget the T-shirt?”
I can’t wait to get it made. I know exactly what I want the front of the shirt to say and I’m going to make sure it’s the gaudiest color of hot pink. And he’ll have to wear it for the entire day—even at school.
Julien groans again. “Don’t remind me.”
He buries his face on my damp shoulder, and I pat the top of his head with a “poor baby.”
“I never did ask, but why didn’t Elijah come with us? Didn’t you say that you usually torture him every morning?” I still haven't met Elijah yet, but I'm dying to. From what Julien tells me, Elijah and I were good friends.
“He understands that I want to spend time with you.”
“What time is it?” I ask him.
He checks his fitness watch. “We should head back if Ryder and Jayson are meeting us at your house for breakfast at six-thirty. We’re only a couple of blocks away, so it won’t take long. Five minutes tops.”
Yes, that is another thing I reluctantly agreed to—having breakfast with them a few times a week.
They told me it was one of the things we used to do.
When Julien arrived to get me this morning for our run, he dropped off a bag at my place so he could shower there afterward and not have to rush back home.
It made sense, and Daniel was okay with it seeing as the boys were all coming over for breakfast anyway.
I reach over and take his hand. “I think I’m going to need you to help me up. My legs don’t want to work.”
Julien doesn’t even use his arms to lift himself up off the ground.
In one lithe move, he stands up using only his legs.
I gawk at his strength. He may be lean, but his leg muscles are impressive.
He bends down and lifts me like I weigh no more than a feather.
My laughter suddenly dies when I’m standing and we are face to face, his silver eyes flashing.
Julien touches my cheek, taking his time to gently pick away individual strands of hair that are stuck to my skin with sweat. He loops the strands behind my ears.
“Julien?”
One slow second passes. Two. Three. Then the spell is broken.
“Come on,” he tells me as he grips my hand and laces our fingers.
We walk hand in hand together back to my house. It’s early daybreak and a halo of sunlight spears the horizon to signal the start of another day
“Think I can convince you to come running with me again?” he asks.
“Do I get more rewards?”
“That can be negotiated. I’ll have to take bad karaoke off the table for our next run.”
I feign shock at his words. “But you have such a lovely singing voice.” He really doesn’t, but I had such a great time doing our duet together at Belly’s. “Did I do that a lot?”
Our linked hands are swinging between us like we’re two four-year-old best friends skipping down the sidewalk.
“Yeah. You used to sing and play for us all the time. You were phenomenal. Truly talented. Your dad—” He stops abruptly. “I’m sorry, Liz.”
We’ve avoided all conversation about my parents and sister so far.
It’s like a silent agreement between the four of us that we steer clear of that topic.
This may sound horrible, but I know it bothers them more than it does me because I don’t remember my family at all.
They do, however, and it’s clear the pain is still there.
My memory loss has protected me from that pain so far.
I avoid thinking about how that will change if my memories do return.
“Julien, it’s fine. I’m fine. You can say whatever you want to say.”
He side-eyes me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m telling him the truth.
Hesitantly, he begins again. “Your dad taught you how to play. The guitar, the piano, the drums. He was really good. Always traveling with his band to do shows. You took after him—his talent, I mean. Not the traveling part.”
“That was one thing I was bewildered about with the amnesia. I couldn’t figure out how I knew how to play so many different musical instruments but couldn’t remember how I learned to do so, or who taught me.
As we approach my house, Jayson and Ryder are sitting on the top step, waiting with cups of coffee and stuffed paper bags in their hands. Jayson levels a look at my hand in Julien’s, and Julien drops mine like it’s electrified.
“You guys are early,” I remark, stepping between them to unlock the front door.
Last night when I told him I would be running this morning with Julien, Daniel mentioned that he had an early morning meeting. He said he would be gone by six, and not to be surprised if he wasn't here when I came back from my run.
Ryder stands up and follows me inside. I hear Jayson say to Julien, “What was that all about?”
“Liz, you want the shower first?” Julien asks me. He bends down to pick up the bag he left near the front door.
Ryder hands me a coffee and jiggles one of the paper bags he’s holding. The smell of food is too enticing. “Nah, you can go first.”
“We brought a variety of scones, muffins, and donuts,” Ryder informs me.
Seven miles surely works up an appetite, and right now, I want to shove as many donuts in my face as possible. I am that hungry.
Ryder takes a plate out of my cupboard and starts piling pastries on it.
Cinnamon scones, glazed and powdered donuts, a few varieties of muffin tops.
I snatch a chocolate covered donut from his hand before he’s able to put it down on the plate, and I take a big bite.
God, that’s so good. Whoever discovered chocolate is a genius.
“Where’d you get these?” I ask with my mouth full.
“Julien told us about that bakery you found.”
I give Ryder a thumbs up
Jayson comes to stand beside me and leans in to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “Morning, princess.”
“Stop it,” I mumble as I chew.
He pulls me toward him, and I push him back to reach for another donut. He then tries to throw his arm around my shoulder, and I duck. He steps behind me and I glide to the side.
“Jayson.
“Liz.”
He’s full-on smirking at me now, a twinkle in his gray eyes.
Ryder is leaning back against the counter watching us do our little dance of chase and evade.
Julien walks in the kitchen, hair still damp from his shower, and sees me and Jayson circling the counter.
In one quick movement, Jayson reaches out to grab me and throws me over his shoulder.
“Hey!” I yelp.
“Shower time. You smell,” he says and carries me over his shoulder down the hallway.
Like being hit with a jarring bolt of electricity, my body jolts and my vision tunnels as memory flashes hurtle to the front of my mind.
I’m barraged by images of Jayson and Ryder.
Memories of different times when they both picked me up and carried me over their shoulders just like this.
Memories of my laughter and shrieks of delight.
I blink and the image changes to a room, like a garage.
A black Challenger sits up on a car lift.
My eyes are glued on Ryder’s face as he lifts me, our lips locked in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss.
“Jayson, put me down.”
He must hear something in my voice because he stops abruptly and does as I say.
“What’s wrong, princess?”
Exhausted from my run with Julien and unnerved by these new flashes of memories, I snap.
“I’m not your princess!” I shout at him. “I’m not your baby! Stop trying to make me be the girlfriend you used to know. I. Am. Not. Her!”
“What's going on?” Ryder says before he pushes between us, tucking me behind him in a protective move.
“Liz?” Jayson’s voice is filled with hurt and confusion.
“It's not fair... Why does... I can't... Argh!” I'm shouting gibberish, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, as I fist my hands in my hair. And now I feel guilty because Jayson has this hurt look on his face. It’s like I kicked a defenseless puppy. It’s too much.
I bang my fist against the wall and stalk off to my bedroom to get away from everyone.
As soon as I get to my room, I slam the door, taking satisfaction in the loud crack of sound it makes. Sitting down on my bed, I give myself a minute to calm down.