This One Moment (4 page)

“Brandon called me last night. I came as soon as I could get a flight here.”

I looked down at the girl I loved, and my heart almost broke in two. Whoever had attacked her had done a number on her, but behind the bruised, puffy face and the thin oxygen tube attached under her nose, she was the same beautiful girl I remembered. The same beautiful girl I had known, deep down, I would return to when the time was right. Once my life was less complicated with the band and touring. Once I no longer feared reliving the memories from the night I'd lost my family.

Her long brown hair was still shiny and inviting. I itched to stroke my fingers through it to see if it was as silky as it had been five years ago. I longed to lean close to her and see if she still smelled like my favorite sugar cookies, sweet with a hint of vanilla.

“What do you want to make?” she had asked me just before our last Christmas together. We'd been standing hip to hip in her parents' kitchen, poring over a recipe book while she took a break from her studies. “Gingersnaps or chocolate chip cookies?”

“If we make star-shaped sugar cookies,” I said, fighting the craving to kiss her, to let her know how I felt about her, “then we can decorate them.”

She giggled. “You mean then you can eat all the frosting.”

I'd smirked. “That too.” Hailey had known me too well.

“What happened?” I asked her mom now. “Do the cops have any leads?”

With her gaze on Hailey, Mrs. Wilkins shook her head. “The last we heard from her was when she was at your house. My husband had asked her to go there and locate some information off a legal document he said you needed.” I knew about that. My lawyer had contacted him because I was considering finally selling the place. “She found it, told him what he needed to know, and then was headed out to meet up with someone before going to work. She never showed up at the sports center for her shift.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “They found her and her abandoned car in Westgate.”

“Who was she supposed to meet?”

“She never said, and Jim didn't think to ask.” She gave me a small smile. “It's good to see you back. Are you going to be here for long?”

Apparently Hailey had never told her mom that after I'd left the college town, I ignored Hailey's attempts to communicate with me. She'd never told her mom how I had treated her like she'd never existed, as if she'd never consumed my waking thoughts all this time.

I continued watching Hailey's slow, rhythmic breathing. She looked peaceful. A princess sleeping until true love's kiss woke her up, like in Hailey's favorite fairy tale. I wished it had been as simple as that.

“I'm not sure yet.” I wasn't sure if Mrs. Wilkins was asking how long I'd be staying here in the hospital or in Northbridge, and I couldn't be bothered to ask which one she meant.

I finally looked back up at her. Her eyelids were drifting shut, and I was surprised she was still standing. “Have you gone home at all since she was admitted?”

She shook her head and glanced at her daughter.

“You should go home and get some rest. I'll stay with her until you get back.” What I really wanted was to be alone with Hailey so I could apologize for all my screwups. But I'd only do that while she was in a coma and wouldn't remember everything I told her once she woke up. At least I didn't think she'd remember.

Her mom smiled at me, the effort weak at best. “Thanks for coming, Nolan. It will mean everything to her.”

I didn't believe that, but I nodded anyway.

Once I was finally alone with Hailey, I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers, doing the one thing I'd fantasized about for as long as I could remember.

As expected, Hailey's eyelids didn't flutter open like in the fairy tale.

I took the seat her mom had vacated and wrapped my fingers around the hand free of the IV, then brushed a stray strand of hair off Hailey's face.

“Hey, Forget-Me-Not,” I said, using the nickname I'd given her when we were kids and she had been obsessed with the tiny blue flower. “I've missed you.” I gently stroked my thumb against the back of her hand. “I'm so sorry I blocked you out of my life. Just know that I didn't want to, but I couldn't survive here anymore and…and I knew you deserved better than me.” I glanced back at the flowers. Funeral flowers. “I couldn't take the pressure of trying to remember that night…nor did I want to remember it.”

All I could hope for was that my return to Northbridge wouldn't drag me back into the nightmare.

That my return wouldn't trigger the memory of the night my mother and sister died.

I was dreaming.

That was the only way I could explain it. I could hear Nolan's voice in my head even though it couldn't be him. The guy who'd been my best friend, who'd always known how to make me laugh, and whom I'd been falling for, had moved away five years ago and had never spoken to me again.

No, this guy's voice definitely did
not
belong to Nolan.

I wished I could even pretend it had been a long time since I'd seen him, since I'd heard him, and that was why my memory wasn't so clear. But that would be a lie. Ever since his band started getting radio time, I'd paid attention to everything that was Nolan. Except now he was Tyler Erickson.

A guy I didn't recognize, but a guy I missed all the same.

I strained to hear what the voice was saying. The words were garbled, like whoever was talking to me was on the other side of a sheet of glass separating us.

How long he'd been talking to me was a mystery. I kept drifting in and out of awareness. But each time I drifted back, the voice was clearer, as were the words, to the point where I was positive it was Nolan.

Then the beautiful, breathtaking melody of an acoustic guitar filled every part of me with longing. It was one of my favorite songs. Always had been since the first time Nolan sang it to me. Back then, I had imagined that he'd written “This One Moment” about me, about us. That the love I heard in the lyrics and in his voice had been directed at me.

Three weeks later he'd disappeared from my life and I realized I'd been wrong. The song wasn't about anyone in particular. He hadn't been in love with me.

The voice, the one filling my dreams, started singing again, and the emotions I always felt when I heard the song became a jumbled mess.

I wanted the song to stop.

I didn't want the song to stop.

The corners of my lips curved up in a slight smile. Warm callused fingers gently brushed the back of my hand.

“Hailey? Hey, babe, are you gonna open your beautiful eyes for me?” Nolan's deep voice sank into my body, hugging my bones tight, and the full-bodied richness melted me to the core.

I wanted to do as he asked. Even if he was just a dream, I wanted to open my eyes and see him. Really see him.

With all the strength I could muster in my achy body, which felt like someone had mistaken me for a soccer ball and kept kicking it against the wall, I cracked open my eyelids.

A bright light pounded on my brain and my head screamed in pain. I let my eyelids drift shut.

The fingers stroking my hand moved to my face, and a thumb brushed against my cheek. “Hey, Forget-Me-Not. Am I gonna have to kiss you like the prince kissed Sleeping Beauty?”

Yes, please
.

Apparently I hadn't just answered that in my mind like I'd thought I had. A warm breath kissed my mouth first, before a pair of real lips, as soft as I'd imagined they would be, briefly touched mine.

Then all too quickly they pulled away, leaving behind the crisp lingering scent that reminded me of lemons and sunshine. Nolan's scent.

I turned my head, taking care not to move it too fast and cause the pain to worsen. I opened my eyes again, the movement slow. This time the light wasn't as bright as before. It took a moment or two for the world to come into focus. The IV attached to the back of my hand. The rough sheets, thin, almost weightless, not at all like my comfy bedding at home. The bland white walls with the two nondescript beige doors. The only real color in the room came from the explosion of flowers on the nightstand and the windowsill.

Behind me, I heard a regular beeping noise from the heart rate monitor. I hadn't noticed the sound until now, so I had no idea if it had kept the same steady beat when those warm lips touched mine. God, I hoped the damn thing hadn't sped up. Shoot me now if it had.

Once my eyes adjusted to the room and the light without another flash of pain stabbing my head, I turned toward Nolan. He hadn't changed much since he'd left Northbridge. He still looked very much like the guy I had grown up with. The guy who had practiced dribbling the soccer ball with me hours after everyone else had gone home. The guy who hadn't laughed at how much I sucked when he tried to teach me to play the guitar. And the guy I had fantasized kissing, night after night. His light brown hair was shaggier than back then, which only made him sexier. His normally smooth face was rough with a day or two of growth, which also made him sexier. And I knew without removing his shirt that his body was as lean and muscular as before.

Seeing him in front of me hurt almost as much the dull throb in my head. I hadn't realized how much I missed him until now. The glossy-picture version, the music-video version, the TV-interview version were all weak facsimiles of the real deal.

“Hey, pretty girl. Fancy meeting you here.” The sexy, mischievous smile I clearly remembered from five years ago slipped onto his face. And this time the heart rate monitor did betray the upkick of my heart rate.

I glared at it; Nolan chuckled at my reaction. Luckily, unless he'd learned to read minds during the past five years, he didn't know he was the cause of the momentarily faster beep.

“What are you…doing here?” I asked, my voice slurred and weak, sounding like it had been dragged over asphalt.

“Brandon called two days ago and told me you had been attacked and were in a coma. I came as soon as I could get a flight here.”

My brain slowly processed the things he'd said, and I wasn't sure which left me with the most questions. I decided to go with the most pressing issue first. I'd worry later about the part where he'd come back to see me, especially after he'd abandoned me all those years ago and never bothered to return my calls or texts. “What do you…mean, I was…attacked?”

Nolan's eyebrows furrowed together. “Don't you remember what happened?”

I thought for a second or two, but that caused the pain in my brain to become more intense. For now, thinking was
not
my best 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 disappear. It wasn't like he'd be sticking around. He had no need to. His life wasn't here. It was in L.A., with his band, and with his new girlfriend, Alyssa Graham. Those two were perfect together, as the media loved reminding me every chance they got.

“When Brandon told me you were in a coma,” Nolan said, “I got scared. I was afraid I'd never see you again.”

I laughed, the sound slightly bitter even if the attempt to laugh had been weak. Pain slashed my ribs at the movement, and I cringed. I'd been hurt plenty of times during soccer games, but I'd never hurt this much. And I was sure that if it hadn't been for the drugs pumping through my system, I'd be hurting a lot more than I currently did.

The frown was back on Nolan's face, the deep lines on his forehead peeking through his bangs. I craved to smooth away those lines and brush his hair out of his warm chocolate-brown eyes. A girl could get lost in those eyes, and many already had.

“Why would you be…scared you'd never…see me again?” I asked. “You haven't exactly…made a lot of effort to…see me as it is.” The bitterness from my laugh had moved over to my words. I hadn't meant for them to come out that way. Guess the drugs were more powerful than I realized. The truth serum of emotions.

Well, if that was true, I'd have to work super hard at making sure Nolan didn't figure out how I really felt about him. That'd be the last thing he'd want to hear.

Nolan looked away, his gaze landing on the window. From my vantage point, all I could see was the crisp late-fall sky, blue and almost cloud free. I couldn't even tell if there was new snow on the ground. The last I remembered, it had been in the forecast.

“I'm sorry, Hailey.” His gaze returned to me, and the sexy one-sided smile crept back onto his face. And once again the stupid heart rate monitor proudly announced the effect that his smile had on me.
Seriously, heart, don't you have something better to do?

“I know I've been an asshole,” Nolan continued, and no way was I arguing against that. “I should've at least answered your texts and let you know I was okay. I figured you were better off without me in your life, and as selfish as it sounds, I wanted a new start. I couldn't do that if I kept in contact with people here. I wanted to forget this town. I wanted to forget everything about it.”

Part of that I could understand. And part of it was a lie. “You kept in contact with Brandon.” If he claimed he only kept in contact with Brandon because Brandon was his best friend, I'd nail him on the side of his head with my pillow.

We'd been friends for too long for me not to know what he was thinking. Maybe I was a little rusty now at figuring him out, and maybe he had perfected the skill of masking his emotions while he was away being a rock star. But I could tell he was thinking the same thing as me when it came to Brandon and the best-friend excuse. He knew I'd call bullshit if he tried that one.

“I know,” he said. “And I also figured you'd beat the info out of him if you wanted to know how I was doing.”

Somehow I managed not to laugh at that and at the memory of when I had been twelve years old and wanted to be part of Nolan and Brandon's secret club. Only boys were allowed. That had been Brandon's idea. Nolan was all for me joining, and he explained to Brandon how I could benefit the club, most notably because I could sneak in cookies. It was only when I started hitting Brandon on the head with a pillow that he finally changed his mind.

“And I didn't exactly ignore you,” Nolan added. “Brandon attended all your games back when you were playing on the collegiate team, and he taped them for me.”

My eyes widened. “He did?” I knew Brandon had been at the games, and I'd always thought that was a little odd. Unlike me and Nolan, Brandon had never been a fan of soccer. Hockey and football were more his sports. And unlike me and Nolan, he'd never spent his childhood attending practices. He'd never stayed up late, practicing his footwork until he was doing it in his sleep. No, that had been all Nolan and me.