Chapter 3

Paige

There is a knot in my stomach as I watch a large SUV drive up to the curb outside my apartment. Dallas is inside of it, and I’m surprised there aren’t any paparazzi here, but then again, I live on the poor side of the big city. No one would expect him to be dropped off here.

“Hello, Paige,” Julian is the first person to jump out of the car and greet me. He looks oddly happy to see me, which is a first.

Dallas’ agent never really liked me. I remember him calling me an obstacle that kept Dallas from achieving his big dream of becoming a football star, and yes, I still hold a grudge.

“Nice to see you, Julian,” I plaster on a smile. “Where is Dallas?”

“In the back,” Julian says.

I glance toward the back of the SUV, watching as a couple of bodyguards help Dallas with his wheelchair.

My eyes do a double-take.

It’s strange seeing Dallas, who always used to be so strong and tough, sit in a wheelchair with a broken leg. It’s even stranger that Dallas doesn’t have his old memories and probably can’t remember he has been here before.

He has.

I swallow thickly. Before Dallas became famous and broke my heart, he helped me paint the walls inside my apartment. There is still a white spot on the ceiling in my bedroom. Dallas made it and teasingly said I would never be able to reach it without his help, that it would stay there forever unless I asked him to please remove it.

I never did.

The spot remained, and when Dallas and I broke up, the little dab of white became a bittersweet memory. I still stare at the little area every night before I go to sleep. It feels like a lifetime ago since Dallas dabbed it there.

Shit, I’m teary-eyed. I still can’t believe I’m about to become my ex-boyfriend’s caretaker. The world is a weird place.

“Hey, don’t touch the handles!” Dallas hisses at a bodyguard. “I’m not handicapped and can roll forward on my own.”

Julian groans. “Dallas, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not the end of the world to accept help from people? You’re injured!”

Dallas glares at him and rolls forward on his own, stopping when he catches me looking at him. Silence passes between us, and I give him an awkward smile.

“Do you want me to roll you up to the apartment?”

His lips part, and then he seems to blush before quickly averting his eyes from me. “Please.”

Julian gasps. “You’re letting HER help you?!”

Dallas ignores his agent, and I grip the handles of his wheelchair. My big patient is definitely blushing, and I can only imagine why: Dallas never liked to feel vulnerable. I guess some things never change.

Even without his memories, Dallas is embarrassed that he needs help. The only difference is that the old Dallas probably wouldn’t even accept the help.

As I push Dallas up the ramp and through the entrance of my apartment building, I can feel the tension radiating off of him. I try to make small talk as we ride the elevator, but he is mostly quiet, and I don’t want to push him too much.

When we finally make it up to my apartment, I roll Dallas to my living room and put on the TV. His face is scrunched up in pain, and I can tell he is trying to hide it.

“Are you okay?” I ask, kneeling down in front of him.

He immediately looks in the other direction with his eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.”

I don’t believe him for a second, but I don’t want to start an argument. “Okay, well, let me grab you some water, and then we can figure out what you need.”

I leave Dallas alone, and then I hear Julian enter the apartment with all of Dallas’s stuff. “Is this where you’re going to live?” Julian asks in disbelief. “This place is horrendous!”

My skin prickles with irritation. Just because I don’t live in luxury like Dallas’ pompous agent doesn’t mean my apartment is a dumpster. I like it here and am just about to defend my home, but Dallas beats me to it.

“Shut up, Julian,” Dallas snaps. “It’s fine.”

I’m shocked at Dallas coming to my defense. He never did that in the past. Whenever Julian was mean to me, Dallas sat in silence as if oblivious to it. I’m...baffled.

“Here is your water,” I say as I cross the floor to give Dallas his glass of water.

“Thanks,” Dallas mutters as he takes a sip.

I decide to change the subject. “So, what do you need me to do for you?”

Dallas glances at me, his eyes softening. “Just help me with some of the daily stuff, I guess. Like getting dressed and preparing food.”

I give him a brief smile, relieved that he is not asking for anything too difficult. “Okay, I can do that.”

Dallas nods back, but then his eyes flicker to the TV, and I see a spark of interest in them. “Is that the new series everyone is talking about?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” I’ve watched the first episodes myself. “Want me to put it on for you?”

Dallas nods eagerly, and I can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at being able to bring him some joy. As I start the show, I see Dallas’ eyes light up with excitement, and I’m glad that, even without his memories, he can still find happiness in the little things.

“Alright,” Julian exclaims and wipes some sweat from his forehead. “We are all done setting up the guestroom. There will be bodyguards circling the block every hour of the day, and Dallas’ personal trainer is renting a hotel room nearby. He will help keep Dallas fit and help him with his recovery, and I expect him to show up every day for exercises. And tomorrow, we will arrive with Dallas’ new bed, but until then...”

“He can take my bed. It’s alright,” I say. I’ve already thought this through. “I will sleep on the couch.”

“Sure, but…” Julian hesitates.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you sure you will be fine without me staying over? Dallas is six-foot-six, and you’re what, five-foot-two?”

“Five-foot-one.”

“Right,” he clears his throat. “How are you going to get him into bed?”

Dallas groans. “I will have you know that I only broke one of my legs! Getting into the bed is no fucking problem.”

I roll my eyes at Julian’s concern. “I’ve handled the big guy when he was drunk in the past. I think I can handle him when he has a broken leg. And Dallas is right: he only broke one leg. He will be able to help out a little on his own.”

Julian nods, still looking unsure. “Alright, but if you need anything, just call me.”

“I will.” I won’t, but I don’t tell him that. I want him to leave as soon as possible.

As Julian gathers his things and heads to the door, Dallas glances at me with a small smile. “Thanks for doing this.”

I feel a warmth spread throughout my body at his words. “Of course, Dallas. I’m here for you.”

“You always have been, haven’t you?”

I swallow hard and look away from him, feeling tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

The room falls silent, and I can feel Dallas’ gaze on me. When I finally look back at him, he is studying me intently, his eyes dark with emotion.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, his voice low.

I nod, my heart racing in my chest.

“Were we...only best friends and nothing else?”

The question hits me like a ton of bricks, and I’m not sure how to answer it. On one hand, I don’t want to lie to him, but on the other hand, I don’t want to make things more complicated than they already are.

In the end, I lie. “Yeah,” a fake laugh leaves my lips. “What else would we have been?” I. Am. Disgusting.

Dallas seems to consider my words for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and give him a small smile. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

We settle back into watching TV, and I can feel Dallas stealing glances at me every now and then. I try to ignore it, but it’s difficult. It feels like there are a million things I want to say, but I can’t bring myself to say any of them.

Eventually, I can’t keep quiet.

“So,” I say casually without facing him. “Do you remember anyone from your life before the accident?” I’m trying to sound nonchalant, but I couldn’t sound more robotic if I tried.

A few months ago, I saw a picture of Dallas dating a model, and I can’t help but wonder if she is still in the picture. Dallas might have shown up at my door to ask for a second chance, but who knows? Perhaps he was still seeing the model for sex.

“No, I don’t remember anyone.”

I discreetly exhale in relief.

“But, there was a pretty woman that came and visited me at the hospital. Her name was Christina, and she claimed to be my girlfriend, but...I couldn’t remember her.”

My stomach sinks.

I have a hard time believing Dallas had a girlfriend before the accident. If he had one, why would he show up behind my door asking for a second chance?

But of course, I can’t tell Dallas about that. And while I know I shouldn’t press the issue, I can’t help myself. Dallas’ love life is none of my business. He is free to date whoever he wants, but I can’t help but feel like this girlfriend might be an ex-girlfriend trying to take advantage of his memory loss.

“So what are you going to do with that info? Are you going to keep seeing this...girlfriend of yours, even though you can’t remember her?”

I hate how snarky I sound, and I fully expect Dallas to either take offense or make a comment about my obvious jealousy. Instead, he gives me a sly smirk that makes my heart pound.

“I don’t know. She seems like a nice girl and said she would give me time to remember her.”

I force a smile at his response, trying to push away the jealousy that’s bubbling inside me. “That’s good,” I say. “I’m sure things will come back to you eventually.”

“Perhaps,” he doesn’t look at me. “Christina is apparently a famous model.”

Of course, she is!

I'm sure the beautiful blonde Dallas was seeing a few months ago is Christina. The press couldn't get enough of them and said they made a cute couple, which is true. They are both attractive, unlike me, who usually wears worn-out sweaters and only does minimal makeup. I have red hair too, which I'm kind of self-conscious about.

“Must be tough dealing with amnesia.”

Dallas nods and taps his fingers against his thighs. He always used to do that when he was nervous in the past. “Mhm, it’s called Selective Amnesia. Doctors, like at least ten of them, since Julian forced me to see them, have all told me it’s only temporary.”

I turn his face and take in his profile. Temporary could mean anything from a couple of days to a couple of weeks. Does that mean Dallas could suddenly remember our past?

I shove that thought away and force a smile. “I see. It can’t be easy not to remember certain things, but if it’s any comfort, I’m willing to create your very first new memories.”

Dallas looks at me with a mix of surprise and gratitude, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

“Really?” he says softly, a smile playing on his lips.

“Of course,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m here for you, Dallas. Always.”

He leans over and places a hand on my knee, his touch sending shivers down my spine. “Thank you,” he says with his eyes locked on mine. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

The intensity of his gaze is almost too much for me to handle, and I feel myself leaning closer to him without even realizing it. His eyes are bluer than the ocean, and I’m not wearing a lifevest.

How long until I drown in them?

I clear my throat and stand up. “I’m going to pull your bags into the bedroom...”

Dallas says nothing, but there is a knowing smile on his lips as if he knows he is the cause of my reddening face. It’s as if he can see right through me, and butterflies swarm my stomach. Perhaps it was a bad idea to take him in?