him so badly it trembled with his touch.
He bit my lower lip and sucked on it a moment before pulling away. He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek and then breathed against my ear, “With or without my memory, I will never not want you, Kat.”
Then he left me standing by myself, aching all over from his absence.
When I was seven—a year after my mother abandoned us—my dad decided to start a tradition. We were sitting around, a little depressed that our Thanksgiving meal had turned out shitty, when my dad stood up and said, “Know what, Katie? There are plenty of other people out there who don’t even have a home to cook in. We shouldn’t be sitting around whining about how hard our life is because chances are, there’s someone out there who has it ten times worse.”
That was the first year we volunteered at the homeless shelter and even after he went to jail, I continued the tradition, partly out of a need to lend a helping hand, but if I was being completely honest, it was mostly because I didn’t want to sit around during the holidays by myself. Being lonely was a bitch and I had no need for it.
The day after that kiss I dressed in a nice sweater and jeans, intent on keeping up the tradition. I knocked on the stranger’s door—when did I stop calling it my father’s room?—but he didn’t answer. I turned the knob and peered inside… and scowled. The stranger was asleep on his stomach, his arms folded under the pillow, with my dog lying beside him, her head resting on the exposed skin on his back.
“Josie, you traitor,” I hissed.
She raised her head and gave me a look that seemed to imply I was jealous.
I stepped closer, cringing when the floor creaked. “What if I am? I’m still your human.”
She lay her head back down just in time for the stranger to open his eyes and offer up a sleepy smile to me. “Morning,” he croaked. He wrapped an arm around Josie and tucked her into his side, and damn it if that shit didn’t make me just that little bit more jealous.
Snap out of it, Kat . You’re being ridiculous.
He pulled aside the covers and patted the bed. “You want to come snuggle too?”
I rolled my eyes despite every atom in my body pulling me towards him. But I was afraid of how nice it could be under there, how easily I could fall for him and this image of a life he was offering.
The thing was, he had nothing to back up that offer. If, come tomorrow morning, he woke up and remembered his life before, this life he wants with me now would be abandoned. Eventually I’d become nothing but the forgotten details of his past.
And I’d be damned if I subjected myself to that.
I reached over and threw the blanket the rest of the way off him—a little disappointed to see he was wearing pajama pants under there—and enjoyed the ripple of goosebumps that broke out over his tanned skin. “Get up, we are going out,” I said, grabbing Josie’s collar and easing her off the mattress.
He raised a dark eyebrow. “ On a date?”
“ No,” I said, admittedly a little tickled by the idea. “We’re going to run an errand.”
“Can it wait a few minutes?” he asked, pulling the blanket over himself again.
I huffed impatiently. “Why?”
He flashed me a sheepish grin. “There’s uh, a situation that needs a minute to resolve itself.”
I snorted when I realized what he was talking about. “You mean morning wood?” I asked. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“In that case…” He got up and out of the bed and stood in front of me, his chest bare, his hair rumpled. At the front of his cotton pants a thick erection was outlined, tenting the fabric.
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself; I was so nervous and thrilled and had no idea how to express it.
“Well, that reaction will certainly take care of it,” he said, stepping around me to reach for his jeans on the ground.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh,” I said. “Would it make you feel
C. J. Cherryh
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