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It couldn’t be.
He chuckled at me, low under his breath. ‘See something you like?’
‘This tattoo. Do you know what it means?’
He looked down at the curvy text and shook his head. ‘Haven’t had access to look it up just yet. Besides I’m not even sure what language that is.’
‘It’s Latin.’
‘You know it?’
I unbuttoned my jeans and eased down the zipper.
‘Whoa, Ashlyn.’ He took my wrist, stopping me, but I could see the heat building behind his gaze, which did nothing to extinguish the jittery excitement I felt. He ignited something in me. I thrust my jeans down just enough so I could show him my tattoo. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi written in Latin over my left hipbone. The font on mine was smaller, but our tattoos were the same, complete with the curvy script written gracefully in black ink.
He released my wrists, dropped to his knees, and delicately ran a fingertip along the lettering that matched his own. He dipped his fingertips just inside the waistband of my white cotton panties, moving them aside to read the phrase uninterrupted. My stomach jumped at his touch.
‘What does it mean?’ His voice was husky and thick.
I realized I’d been holding my breath and pulled in a lungful of air before answering. ‘I will either find a way or make one.’
The phrase had been etched into my mind long before it was permanently inked on my body. It reminded me to challenge myself, to never settle, and to push through my shitty upbringing to become who I wanted to be. It was a saying that would speak to those who had struggled in life and wanted better, and were willing to fight for it. I wondered what would have possessed Logan to have this marked into his skin. By the look on his face, he was clearly wondering the same thing about me.
He rose to his feet, and after trailing his fingers one last time over the words, he zipped and buttoned my jeans. I stood there completely at his mercy and utterly fascinated by him. What were the chances that we’d have the exact same Latin phrase on our bodies? The similarity was unnerving, but also interesting.
There were lots of things about him that were beginning to intrigue me. The way his green eyes followed mine, his musky, male scent. It also probably didn’t help my libido that both times I’d seen him, he’d been shirtless. There was no way not to notice how attractive he was. My two-year sexual dry spell might have also contributed, but my body’s response to him could only be described as primal…needy.
He appeared just as intrigued by me. He hadn’t yet moved, and was still gripping my hips. I looked down at his hands, which he quickly dropped away. I took a step back trying to ease the sexual tension that crackled in the air between us.
He cleared his throat, mumbling something about getting dressed and disappeared into the bathroom again.
When he closed the bathroom door, I realized our encounter had left me light-headed and dizzy. When he’d leaned in close, the warmth of his skin and the light scent of soap had invited me forward, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his sculpted abs and trim hips had barely held the towel in place.
I gave my head a quick shake. Now was not the time for fantasizing. I was not some hormonal teenager, I was a doctorate student, but I’d never been quite so taken with a man before. The experience was unnerving. I’d practically whimpered when his fingertips touched me. And I sure as shit shouldn’t have unbuttoned my pants. This was completely unlike me and totally unprofessional. I rushed from the room as a sudden wave of panic hit.
I needed to get a hold of myself. I slipped into the ladies’ room before my nerves overtook me. I looked at my pale skin and wide set blue eyes in the mirror. A frail frightened girl stared back at me. I splashed cold water onto my cheeks, hoping to add some color back to my face.
I took a few deep breaths and the color in my cheeks slowly began to return.
I had a decision to make. I could move past my obvious lapse in judgment of allowing myself to become attracted to him, or I could back out of the assignment and let Clancy know that I wasn’t cut out for this. Then what would I do? Move home to Detroit? Find a job in the city? Work in an office from nine to five every day in a boring job I didn’t care about? No, I had worked too hard for that. I was passionate about this research. Quitting now would be silly. I wasn’t that impulsive. It would be fine.
I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. I would just have to do my best to keep things professional in his presence. At home later was a different story —I couldn’t be held responsible for the Logan-induced fantasies that were likely to haunt my dreams.
After giving myself a much needed pep talk, I went back to Logan’s room and slipped into the plastic chair near his bed. When I finally looked up at him, I knew my mistake instantly. I hadn’t allowed myself to become attracted to him. I had no say in the matter. It was simple chemistry. A primal attraction that couldn’t be controlled or turned off simply because I willed it so.
I took a moment to clear my head and focused on our work for today. I needed to maintain utmost professionalism with him. I had to set the tone and parameters of our relationship. He was in a fragile emotional state, and the last thing I needed to be doing was fantasizing about having sex with him. But God, I knew it would be good. That he would be good. He was entirely fuckable, and brought out my inner vixen in a way no man had before. I remembered his fingers on my skin, and mentally chastised myself for not wearing sexier underwear. A trip to the lingerie store at the mall was long overdue. I pushed the last lingering thought of his fingertips brushing across my belly from my mind and put on the most professional face I could manage.
After the fascinating discovery of our matching tattoos, we spent the afternoon listening to the various genres of music I’d checked out from the library. We discovered that he preferred rock music and blues over classical or country. He’d cursed when I put on rap and crossed the room to turn it off, which was funny. He made me replay a particular blues song three or four times, saying he was sure there was something familiar about it, but ultimately he couldn’t recall anything specific.
Despite the lack of progress on producing any memories, the afternoon hadn’t felt like a failure. It had actually been sort of fun. Logan had lain across the bed, his eyes closed, deep in concentration as I played the music, skipping through songs, or turning it up based on his preferences.
He asked me to leave the books behind for him to read, that way I was guaranteed to return to see him, he said, at least to pick up the books. If only he knew I was already anticipating my next visit.
The smile on my face had not faded when I ran into Dr. Andrews in the hallway.
‘Have you been here all afternoon?’ He frowned, looking down at his watch.
It was amazing that several hours had passed without my noticing. ‘Um, yeah. We got a lot done.’
‘Did he recall anything about the murder?’
Well burst my bubble. My stomach dropped. ‘No. I’m not working with him on remembering that.’
He scoffed at my direct admission.
‘Dr. Andrews, you’re the one who diagnosed him with post-traumatic or dissociative amnesia. You and I both know that he’s distanced himself from important personal information about himself and his life. His memory can likely be restored over time, but the events leading up to the trauma will likely be the last to be remembered. Or never remembered at all.’
Dr. Andrews shuffled his feet, still frowning.
‘Besides, that’s what the police-assigned psychologist is for.’
‘Listen, Ashlyn, I’m only trying to look out for you. He’s dangerous. You haven’t read the police file.’
My belly danced with nerves, both wanting and not wanting to know what the police records contained.
‘They’d found him in an abandoned warehouse, covered in blood, a sledgehammer nearby and the dead body of another man lying beside him. He’d beaten the hell out of him. Gruesome stuff.’
My skin broke out in chill bumps. I just couldn’t imagine Logan being dangerous.
‘He’s a young man who doesn’t even know his name, and though I appreciate your concern, I know what I’m doing.’ I turned and strode towards the elevator, faking a confidence I so did not feel. I stabbed the down button several times for good measure, and when I turned around, Dr. Andrews was gone.
That night I lay in bed, looking over the curving script scrawled on my hip in the dim moonlight seeping in through the blinds. I ran my fingertips lightly along my skin, just the way Logan had. A low throbbing ache built between my legs, needing so much more. I let my fingers dance just below the waistband of my panties and imagined it was Logan’s palm that was laid flat on my stomach. I closed my eyes and let myself imagine what kind of lover he would be. Through our visits, I was able to read his emotions almost better than my own. He felt entirely alone and craved comfort and closeness. Feelings I couldn’t even let myself explore with him.
My fingers dipped lower, finding myself already wet. I stroked the swollen bud softly, as I imagined Logan would and moaned as pleasure rocketed through me. I never touched myself like this, preferring instead the efficiency of my vibrator, which quickly got the job done. But tonight as I daydreamed of Logan, I wanted to draw it out, to make the sensations last. To have his face in my mind and his name on my lips when I came.
Chapter Three (#uf9ac77d7-bdb4-5ae2-9d7f-f2759045647f)
‘The amount of time you’re spending at the hospital isn’t healthy, Ash,’ Liz said, stepping forward to get in line for coffee. ‘It’s not normal.’
I opened my mouth to respond, and she held up one hand, stopping me. ‘And don’t say it’s for your thesis. I talked to Clancy and he said you have plenty of outside material, and that your thesis outline is nearly done.’
I closed my mouth, unable to use the defense I’d been about to employ. I had a draft of my thesis outline complete. Logan’s situation was only a small part of it, a real-life reference point in all the other data. It hadn’t felt right to make his case front and center, dramatizing his pain that way.
I followed Liz towards the counter, needing much more caffeine to even consider discussing my relationship with Logan with her.
Over the last few weeks, I’d managed my schedule so that I could swing by the hospital and see Logan every day, even if it was only for thirty minutes between classes. My attraction to him hadn’t begun to fade. In fact, it only seemed to intensify each time I saw him. But knowing I’d never be able to act on it, my feelings stayed bottled up. He was safe in the hospital for now, which made me feel the tiniest bit better. If he were to get out, though…I had no idea what might happen between us. Our sexual chemistry was ready to combust.
I had avoided elaborating on my visits to Liz, harboring a sense to guard what was developing between Logan and me.
‘Tell me what’s going on, Ash. This isn’t like you to get so obsessed about a test subject.’
I swallowed hard. I needed to come clean about Logan. He wasn’t just some test subject. He hadn’t been from the beginning, and now after spending several weeks with him, talking music and literature, tasting all kinds of foods, I knew we had grown close. Too close as far as doctor-patient relationships went, even if I wasn’t a doctor yet.
I suppressed a grin at the thought of Logan, struggling to keep my game face on in front of Liz. She’d jump on me at the first sign that something was off.
Even though my visits hadn’t helped Logan to remember anything, spending time together brought him a sort of peace, he’d said. I provided a brief escape from his pain, and a break from the investigators who still questioned him, but were running into roadblocks as they tried to build their case.
I stepped up to the counter to place my order. ‘Small skim latte.’
Liz barked her order to the cashier and handed him her card. ‘I know I’ve been encouraging you to get laid, but I didn’t mean with him. I don’t care how good looking he is. He’s a mental patient for fuck’s sake.’
The dreadlocked cashier raised his eyebrows, looking between Liz and me. Great. I dropped my loose change into the tip jar and marched to the end of the bar to wait for my drink, clenching my fists at my sides.
We sat down in the cushy chairs in the back of the café, sipping our drinks. Liz’s knowing gaze never left mine. ‘Tell me what’s going on. Since you met him, you’ve become even more of a hermit than before.’
I ducked my head, sucking in a sip of my latte. Damn, too hot. I knew she was right, but I couldn’t explain the pull that Logan had over me. Maybe it wasn’t healthy spending so much time at the hospital. I almost laughed at the obviousness in that statement. But Logan wasn’t crazy. I knew that for sure. I also knew with absolute certainty that I’d be the one to go insane if our sexual chemistry got any hotter.
‘I’ve got it under control, Liz.’
Each day I entered his room he lifted me into his arms and held me tight before setting my feet on the floor. I couldn’t help but think that he was craving the physical affection after the weeks alone.
Dr. Andrews had seen us hug once and I’d instantly felt ashamed and embarrassed for letting myself grow so attached to a patient. Of course, it hadn’t stopped me from visiting Logan every day. I just tried harder to avoid Dr. Andrews.
Over coffee, Liz tried to convince me that I needed to take a break from my work with Logan, that I was becoming obsessed. When she dropped me off afterwards, and saw the embarrassing state of my apartment, I started to think maybe she was right. Stacks of textbooks and a small mountain of notes had spilled from my overstuffed bookcase just inside the entryway, providing an obstacle to even getting through the front door. I had thought nothing of stepping over the heap the last several days, but watching Liz clumsily navigate it embarrassed me. I led her farther into the apartment, where at least the sofa was free of clutter.
She tossed her purse onto the couch. ‘Seriously gal, you need to reel it in.’ She waved her arms, motioning to the state of my apartment.
Despite any evidence to the contrary, my life was neat and logical. My piles of books and papers were concrete, things I could grasp. My kitchen contained only the essentials--coffee always left out on the counter and cupboards filled with cups of instant noodles. I didn’t have time for fluff, for boys and their nonsense, and certainly not for the one I was studying who had more baggage than a celebrity’s luggage cart.
But maybe my life needed the excitement Logan could provide. Things had gotten damn predictable--classes, boring professors, a drawer full of vibrators and romance novels dog-eared at my favorite scenes.
Still, against all common sense, I couldn’t seem to keep Logan off my mind. With the criminal case against him weakening with each passing day, and the likelihood that he would soon remember his former life, I knew he’d be moving on and I needed to let it go. Heck, it’d occurred to me more than once with how good looking and charming he was that he probably had a girlfriend waiting for him, wondering what had happened. Although in my opinion, any girlfriend who didn’t scour the city, search the hospitals, and jails and even under the overpasses for her boyfriend didn’t deserve a guy like Logan. Period.
Still, it probably wasn’t healthy to ignore my friends, and my poor apartment hadn’t seen a vacuum in weeks. That realization smacked me in the face when Liz wrinkled her nose in disgust, weaving her way through the clutter.
‘Okay, it’s decided. We’re going out tonight. Cocktails, mancandy, it’s happening. Because, this--’ She gestured to the wreck that was my home. ‘--is concerning. You need to move past Logan. I know you think you feel something for him, but it’s only because of how passionate you are about your work.’
I’d told Logan I’d be back to see him after my coffee date with Liz. I hadn’t missed a day since we’d met. Even though I didn’t like the idea of standing him up, I knew there’d be no dissuading her. Besides, one night out wouldn’t kill me. I could call the hospital and ask that they pass a message on to Logan that I wouldn’t be able to make it today. That way, at least he wouldn’t be waiting for me.
‘Fine. I’ll go.’
She smiled. ‘Go shower. And I’ll do my best to clean this mess up just in case you get lucky and bring a guy home tonight.’
‘I won’t be…’
She silenced me with a slap on the behind. ‘Oh yes, you will. Now go.’
I took a brief shower and quickly shaved my legs, unsure of what Liz might be doing to my apartment. Despite being cluttered with textbooks and papers on every available flat surface, I knew where everything was. I didn’t need her meddling with my system. When I emerged from the shower, pink and scrubbed clean, I found Liz sitting on the sofa, texting.
The apartment looked the same as it did before my shower. ‘Gave up?’
She glanced up from her phone. ‘Oh, yeah.’ She waved a hand absently. ‘There’s no hope for this place. Just wear some damn sexy underwear, and hopefully the lucky guy won’t notice or care that you live like an animal.’
I sent a quick email to the hospital receptionist on Logan’s floor and dressed in jeans and a tank top. Liz helped me dry my hair pin straight and did my makeup, too, and then I hobbled on my seldom-worn heels to her apartment for some pre-drinks.
Around ten-thirty, we finally stepped inside a sleek lounge, an off-campus favorite that I hadn’t been to yet. Liz kissed the bouncer on both cheeks and he swatted her backside, leading me to believe she was here more often than I’d thought.
We sipped on cosmopolitans in sleek martini glasses, and the combination of vodka and liqueur went straight to my head. Before long, Liz and I were gyrating on the dance floor to techno music, writhing together to the delight of a group of guys observing us from across the room.
When I could no longer stay steady on my heels without spilling my drink from the rim of the martini glass, I made my way to the side of the dance floor and slid into a booth. I slipped off the heels underneath the table and stretched my aching feet. I watched Liz continue to shake her booty and grind into the lap of an overeager frat boy.
I ordered a water and rested my chin in my hands, watching Liz enjoy herself. Sometimes I was jealous of her ability to embrace the moment and live life to the fullest. She didn’t have a care in the world. Besides working, school, studying and reading, there wasn’t much else to my life. Until Logan came along.
One of the frat guy’s friends slid into the booth next to me, smiling at me with a drunken grin. ‘Hey,’ he called over the thumping music.
‘Hey,’ I returned. I was so not interested, but managed to engage him in conversation, mostly to please Liz who offered me encouraging looks from the dance floor now and then.
About ten after one, I was exhausted, tipsy and ready for bed. Alone.
I said goodbye to Liz, who was practically attached at the face to frat boy number one. She waved and made me promise to call her in the morning. As if she’d even remember this conversation, I vowed to call her first thing.
I stumbled to the street and began walking toward my apartment, confident that I could hail a cab on the way if I didn’t feel like walking the eight blocks. And in these shoes that was a distinct possibility. At least I felt safe here. The streets were well lit with streetlamps every dozen feet and the sidewalks were fairly well populated with college students out looking for a good time. Not to mention a police officer or two could be spotted fairly easily if you were looking.
I passed by a Thai restaurant, glancing up at the sign above me with a gilded golden elephant. I wondered if Logan would like Thai food, or if tasting it would spark a memory for him. A smile pulled at my lips at the thought of bringing Logan here, watching him lick spicy peanut sauce from his lips. I felt lighter in his presence, incredibly alive and carefree, something that was rare for me since most of my days were spent worrying about my mounting student-loan debt, the endless research papers that needed writing, and even my dad who was all alone back in Michigan. At least tonight the alcohol left me with a fuzzy buzz and I could daydream about Logan on my walk home.
I passed by the small park I often sat in to read or study. It was little more than a cluster of trees and some park benches, but in the heart of downtown, you couldn’t be too picky with green spaces.
The evening air was cool and felt great against my overheated skin and the nearly full moon made it a beautiful night. It would have been a nice night to walk home, if it weren’t for these blasted shoes. I stopped to lean against a lamppost and removed my heels.
A policeman prodding a homeless man on a park bench caught my attention. The man sat up, and rubbed his hands across his face. It was the same mannerism Logan used when he was tired or frustrated. It had to be a guy thing. But then the streetlight caught on his bicep and a tattoo…. Logan.
It couldn’t be. Yet I found myself jogging toward them all the same, heels dangling from my hand.
The police officer had roused the man onto his feet and was urging him along. Like a slap to the face, it hit me that this was indeed Logan. I didn’t understand how or why he’d been released, but there he stood, in my neighborhood park in the middle of the night.
‘Logan!’ I called.
He turned suddenly, his gaze locking with mine. He looked tired, weary and untrusting. My heart sank. There wasn’t even a question; I had let him down by not coming today. Had he snuck out to see me? Why did that thought make me deliriously happy? Sick, Ashlyn, sick. I was becoming obsessed with him and Liz was right, it wasn’t healthy. But seeing Logan here, the feelings he roused within me, I just didn’t care. I needed to see him.
I jogged the last few paces and stopped in front of him. He didn’t greet me with his customary hug, but instead stood coolly observing me. A pang of regret flared up inside my chest. I shouldn’t have ditched him to hang out with Liz tonight. Especially when she was ditching me for guy right now.
The police officer cleared his throat. ‘You know him?’
‘Yes, I know him,’ I said, without taking my eyes from Logan’s. His gaze softened just the slightest bit.
‘Just move it along, folks. No sleeping in the park.’
‘No problem, officer.’ I nodded, not breaking eye contact with Logan.
