Call Me Temptress

Chapter 4

Suddenly it comes to me. The book.

No, no, that's not exactly right. The face book. That thing that Will showed me. The picture of the girl. Christie. Yes, Christie!

A wave of relief rushes over me. Christie. I remember her. She was my friend. But more than that. The person I lived with; I can't think of the word. I scratch at my neck in frustration.

No, just concentrate. Think. Think.

Roommate.

I almost cry with joy. I remember. We shared a small house. No, not a house. In a building with other people. An apartment?

I'm not sure, but I don't even care. I'm remembering and it feels incredible.

I take my time in the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my hair. I peruse the cabinets. I find makeup in one drawer. I have the feeling that I don't use makeup often. It doesn't feel natural touching the items, but I do take pleasure in opening them up and discovering all the different things.

By the time I leave the room, it's well past 8:00 and my stomach is growling. I reach the staircase when I hear a door open behind me. I look back and Will stops mid-stride, his hand still on the doorknob of what I assume is his room.

Shit.

All the excitement from the past half hour goes poof and the events from last night come back to me.

I don't realize I've moved back until I feel the step below me and I catch myself just in time before I fall. Will starts forward as if to help, but he's too far and by the time he reaches me, I'm safe, leaning against the wall.

I put up a hand. "I'm okay," I breathe.

He nods, gets my meaning and steps back. Twice. Stuffs his hands in his pockets.

Shit.

We stare at each other in silence. It's so awkward.

"I'm..." he starts, eyes on the ground, but I raise my hand again quickly to cut him off.

"Do not apologize for last night again."

His eyes shoot up to mine.

I shake my head. "Let's just forget about it, okay?" I speak firmly, hoping he'll understand that I don't want to talk about it.

He nods. His brows furrow, but he doesn't say anything further.

I need a subject change. Quick.

"Ummm," I scratch my arm. "I think my name is Nina."

"Nina?"

I nod, faking confidence. I need a name, whether I'm sure or not. But my honesty gets the better of me. I shrug. "I don't know for sure."

He reaches out to me. "Are you starting to remember things?"

I look down at his hand on my arm and he swiftly pulls away.

"Sorry." Another step back.

Immediately I miss his touch.

"I don't know," I say again. "I've been having these dreams. And who knows if they are real or not, but they kind of feel real."

"About what?"

"I..." His face is so distracting. Gah, this is so pathetic. The concern in his eyes is palpable, and it's urging me closer to him. I crave his touch, to feel his arms around me, comforting me.

I swallow and stand my ground.

"My family. My sister. I'm remembering when I was younger. Not much aside from my sister, Camila. I call her Cami. And she calls me Nina."