"Leslie."
She glanced at with a soft smile, waiting for my next words.
"I have sothing else to ask you, and I hope you can answer truthfully," I said, looking at her with a sowhat serious expression.
Her eyes quivered slightly, and her body tensed, but she nodded. "Sure."
"Could you tell what you know about the night of my accident. I would like you to tell where I was and what I was doing. I have a few reasons to suspect that what happened to was not a car accident."
Her eyes widened, and she nodded.
Oh? She seems eager to discuss this.
"Do you also believe that it was sothing other than a car accident?" I asked curiously, standing up. I walked over to her side and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa.
We both sat down opposite each other, and she looked at with a more serious expression.
"I don’t believe that it was a car accident," she said, sounding certain.
My interest was piqued.
Why does she sound so certain? Does she know sothing?
"Oh? Would you care to explain? Please, tell anything and everything you know, even if it’s a minor or seemingly unimportant detail. I really need to know what happened to ."
I paused and looked into her eyes. "Please, Leslie. I want my mories back."
She looked back at . I could see tears begin to form as she nodded. Though she didn’t say it, I could tell that she really wanted to get my mories back as well.
After wiping her eyes with her finger, she began to give a recap of the night, starting with the mont I ca to pick her and her sister up.
"Was I driving?" I asked.
"No, there was a driver," she answered, "which was one of the reasons I felt that it was strange that you would suddenly drive yourself."
I nodded, "Yes, that is strange."
She continued to tell how we walked over to our VIP booth, even taking the ti to explain the small spectacle Morgan made with the greeter.
"So it was you, Morgan, Karl, and all in one room?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Where did we sit? Was I sitting beside Morgan?" I asked to get a better picture, since the majority of the night was spent in that booth.
She shook her head, "No, you sat with Karl in the chairs up front, while Morgan and I sat on the couch directly behind you."
I raised my eyebrow, "I chose to sit with Karl? Why?"
That part didn’t make sense to . From my conversation with Zachary, I knew that Karl wasn’t a good person, so it was strange that I decided to sit with him.
Leslie averted her gaze. I could tell that she was trying to figure out how to word it or how to wiggle out of explaining it.
"Leslie, please. I only want to know the truth, no matter how strange it may seem," I said softly.
She hesitated slightly, but after looking at , she finally decided to tell . "Because you wanted to shield from him. Karl...isn’t a good person, and he doesn’t have boundaries. If we sat together, he would have had his hands all over ."
My eyes darkened slightly. This information began to paint a picture in my mind about the dynamic of , Karl, and Leslie. Though I couldn’t picture him, for so reason, the idea of another man feeling Leslie up sickened .
Leslie observed closely. She wanted to see my reaction to her words, and after she realized that I was okay, she spoke once more.
"It’s also the reason why you got him drunk."
"I got Karl drunk?" I asked, making sure I understood her clearly.
She nodded softly, "Yes. All night, you continued to refill his glass. By the end of the auction, he must have finished off close to three bottles. He was so drunk that he fell asleep."
Interesting. I must have really wanted this guy to keep his hands off her.
"Did I drink?"
My dical reports said that I was intoxicated, though I found it hard to believe.
"You had only one glass the entire night. I’m certain of it," she said, shaking her head.
I nodded, taking a mont to process the information.
So I really wasn’t drunk. Then how did the alcohol show up on my dical reports? I know that Liam wouldn’t lie to about sothing like this.
"Could you tell exactly what happened after the auction ended?" I asked.
She straightened out in her seat and nodded.
"As soon as the auction ended, there was a post-auction show. Morgan left the room to collect her newly purchased earrings so that she could show you. Karl was fast asleep in his chair," she said while she thought back to that night.
"So only you and I were left in the booth? Well, besides the intoxicated Karl."
"Yes," she said. I noticed that her cheeks flushed as she replied.
"Did we talk about anything?" I asked, feeling curious. I wasn’t sure why I asked that question, but a part of wanted to see how and what we talked about.
Leslie froze, and she began to fiddle with her fingers. I gave her a mont to gather her thoughts, but even after a few minutes, she was still hesitating over it.
We must have talked about sothing inappropriate. She doesn’t know that I’m already aware of our past relationship.
I stood up and walked over to sit beside her. My hand moved slightly, wanting to touch hers, but I stopped myself.
"Leslie. You don’t have to hide it. While I don’t rember it, your things are all over my bedroom. I have a vague understanding of what we..." My voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure how to end the sentence.
If I were to say "of what we were" or "used to be," that would imply that we are no longer in that kind of relationship. For so reason, I was reluctant to make that separation.
Leslie gasped. "Y..you know?"
She looked at carefully, her eyes searching for answers.
"Yes. While I don’t know exactly and still have a lot of questions about us, I do have a general understanding of our relationship," I said calmly. My voice was calm, but my heart was racing.
I couldn’t tell if she was happy or about to burst into tears, but after a while she nodded.
"While Morgan was away and Karl sleeping, we...we..." she looked away.
"We what?" I urged.
"We made love!" she exclaid. Her face was bright red, and she was doing her best to avoid looking at .
I was stunned! I suddenly understood why she was so hesitant to say it.
My hands fumbled around as I also turned to look away. My heart was racing faster than ever before. I wasn’t sure what I expected to hear. Whispering sweet nothings? Holding hands, maybe?
"We made love while your sleeping fiancé was in the sa room?" I asked, voicing my inner thoughts out loud.
Holy shit, Christian. You’re sothing else!
Leslie shifted slightly in her seat before turning to glance at .
"Is your head okay?" she asked with concern.
My head?! More like was my head okay back then?!
"My head? Yeah, I’m okay. Why?" I asked, struggling to understand her question.
"Liam...the Doctor told that I shouldn’t speak of our past. He said that it could negatively affect your recovery," she explained.
I see. So that’s what Liam pulled her out of the room for.
"He could tell you not to say anything, but he couldn’t remove all of your items out of my room," I said, trying to flash her a smile.
My mind suddenly thought of the panties that I pulled out of my pants pocket.
"Um. I’m not sure how to ask this, but were you wearing black panties that night?" I asked, scratching the side of my face.
She froze, but nodded.
"Yes." A small squeak of an answer escaped her lips, barely loud enough for to hear.
I quickly nodded.
Well, at least now I know where the panties ca from. We really were making love in the booth.
The air around us heated up. It was so hot that I felt the need to pull off my jacket and loosen my tie.
Leslie’s flushed cheeks and misty eyes entered my sight, and she looked so seductive sitting so close to .
She’s right there. So what if you don’t have your mories? You both clearly want each other.
The voice in my head continued to urge to move closer and grab her by the hand. We wouldn’t even have to go next door to the hidden bedroom. I could take her right here on this couch.
I wonder if we’ve fucked on this couch before.
My eyes flickered over to my desk.
Or on the desk.
While I looked around the room, imagining all the places we could have had sex...
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