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My gut twists in a knot as I prepare myself for the very thing I’ve feared all along—her memory returning. God, please don’t let her remember everything at once, especially not the past month. I’m not ready for the shit to hit the fan just yet.
Tentatively, I ask calmly, “Jules, can you tell me how you know the lyrics to these songs?”
I feel her stiffen in my arms, and I cringe on the inside. She pulls her head out from under my chin, stares directly into my eyes, but nothing but puzzlement seems to be functioning behind those baby blues of hers as she struggles to remember something for the first time. Her forehead wrinkles, and her eyebrows draw together in pure concentration as a piece of her past tries to break through. A few moments pass in silence, and I wait with baited breath as she digests the magnitude of this revelation.
“I…I don’t know, Trav,” she whispers while shaking her head slightly. “I truly don’t know. I was just baking some banana bread and saw an iPod on the portable speakers, and thought I’d like to play some music while I baked. Then when I started scrolling through the music, I didn’t think twice about what I wanted to listen to, especially when I saw my all-time favorite band. Oh…my God, Travis! I knew all those songs!”
The profound understanding has put a glistening of tears in the corners of her eyes as she continues to speak with elation. “I remember…I got really excited once I found you had Def Leppard, and so I stopped looking for other songs after that,” she tilts her head to the side in thought, her eyes narrowing, “but I can’t seem to think of how I came to know those songs.” She shakes her head as a great relief of seismic proportions sweeps through me, and at the same time, guilt consumes me for being glad she isn’t able to remember. I definitely don’t want to pry Pandora’s Box open by asking any more questions.
Damn, I know I’m a deplorable, selfish bastard for feeling this way, but knowing I’m on borrowed time, I’m desperate. I believe I would go to any extremes necessary right now, which would include keeping her memory at bay while underhandedly making this girl fall in love with me.
A grin falls across my lips as I give her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, veering the subject away from her memory, or lack thereof. “Well, the band is definitely one of my favorites too—saw them in concert once.” I waggle my eyebrows as I joke, “Though, I’d much prefer your version of stage dancing, especially if you’re gonna be the one to tame this wild animal.”
She bites her lower lip as a light red tinge begins to spring forth across her cheeks. Then she pushes past the coyness, allowing a huge smile to take place front and center, and a sparkle of mischievousness glistens in her eyes. Amazingly, to my surprise, she dismisses the previous revelation of her memory with ease, accepting it with valor.
She lets out a half-laugh, and I know she’s up to something when I see a spark of challenge in her eyes. “Yeah, all is fair in love and war, right? It’s your turn to sing for me next, big man, and I get to pick the song.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes,” she taps her forefinger on her lips in thought, “and I’d like to hear you sing…”
I interrupt her charade of thoughts by grabbing her hand and chastely kissing her fingertip. “The only time you’ll ever hear me sing is if I ever hurt myself by accident, and even then, it’ll be a string of curse words.”
She glides the palms of her hands slowly up over my chest, slipping her hands around my neck in a seductive move, all while wearing a devilish grin. “You know, it’s the drummer who’s my all-time favorite.” Mmmm…I’m wondering where she’s going with this, but I remain quiet and play along as I raise my eyebrow skeptically at her.
“I swear, listening to the way he works those drums, I just lose myself in a sea of emotions. It’s an indescribable, profound mystery of what washes over me when I listen to music, especially their music. The beat, melody, and rhythm of the drums, and how it mixes with the rest of the band’s dynamics…it just touches something deep within me, filling me to the depths of my soul; their music makes me feel alive.
I watch as her shit-eating grin continues to play on her lips while mirth dances in her eyes. “To me, listening to one of their songs and feeling the percussion beats vibrating intensely throughout my body…I swear, it’s better than having the most stellar orgasm, in my book.”
