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friend. “I remember going to…work. That’s the last thing I…remember.”
    The crevasse between his eyebrows deepened. “What day was that?”
    “Monday.”
    “You were attacked Friday night. You don’t remember anything at all about that night?”
    “No,” I whispered, and closed my eyes, letting the sweet floral scent wash over me.
    The need to curl up and sleep staggered through me. The world felt like…no,
I
felt like I was going in slow motion while my brain struggled to keep up.
    A door swooshed open.
    “She’s awake,” Nolan said. “But she doesn’t remember anything since last Monday.”
    I peeled my eyes open again, curious to see whom he was talking to. Nolan rubbed the back of his neck as he studied me, as if by doing that he could answer his own questions.
    A woman in her thirties, wearing blue scrubs, approached the bed. “Good afternoon, hon. How’s the pain?”
    “I hurt. All over.”
    Nolan laced his fingers with mine, like he used to whenever I got hurt playing soccer. Back when I’d first begun falling for him.
    “How about your head?” the nurse asked.
    “Especially my head.”
    “Let me adjust your pain meds.”
    “What about how she can’t remember the attack or what happened for several days before it?” Nolan asked. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the worry in his tone. He didn’t have the right to be worried about me. He’d forfeited that right after giving me the silent treatment for years.
    That was what I kept telling myself, but deep in my bones I knew that was a lie. He’d come back. For me. He hadn’t forgotten about me after all.
    I smiled inwardly and let my thoughts drift to how it would feel to kiss him again. To really kiss him. Despite the pain plaguing my body, a different kind of ache tormented me at the thought of that kiss.
    “Sorry, the drugs won’t help her there,” the nurse said. “But the physician on call will be here soon to check her out.” To me she said, “Is there anything else you need?”
    “Water, please.”
    She grabbed the pitcher from the nightstand beside my bed and went into what I guessed was the bathroom. She returned shortly after and filled the plastic glass next to where the pitcher had been. After adjusting my bed so I was partially sitting, she handed me the glass. I took the container with shaky hands and sipped the cold water through the straw. Nolan helped me hold the glass since my muscles weren’t quite ready to do this alone.
    Once I’d had enough, he placed it on the metal nightstand, the nurse long since gone. “Thanks.”
    He then lowered the side railing on the bed. Without asking me if it was okay, he sat on the small available space next to my legs. But he wasn’t close enough, in my opinion, and I subtly shifted my leg so it touched his hip. Despite the bedding and his jeans between us, his warmth seeped into my leg, and I sighed, the sound too soft to be heard by him.
    I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to go to sleep. “I feel lost,” I mumbled. “What day is it?” I somehow managed to find the strength to open my eyes again.
    “Tuesday. You’ve been in a coma since Friday.”
    It took me a moment to register what he said. “Coma?” The word poured out slowly, like it was a foreign term I was trying to wrap my brain around. “Who…attacked me?”
    “I don’t know. The police don’t know either. Can you think of any reason why you’d be in Westgate?”
    I shuddered at the name. I only knew the place by reputation. It was the part of town good girls like me never went to. “Westgate? Why…why would I be there?” I said, more to myself than to Nolan. He clearly knew as little as I did. My gaze jerked back to him. “I still don’t get why you’re here, Nolan.”
    Pain flickered across his gorgeous face, but it vanished so quickly that maybe I’d imagined it. I kept staring at him, afraid that if I blinked, I’d wake up for real and he’d be gone.
    Not that it mattered if he did