Page 83 of Romancing His Heart

Slowly, his heart rate returns to normal, and his grip loosens.

“What did you remember?”

“How do you do that? How do you know what’s going on before I do?”

“I study people, remember? You’ll probably be the star of my next book since all the people watching I’ve done this month is you.”

This gets a chuckle out of him.

“As long as you get the important parts right,” he says, thrusting his perpetual semi into my stomach.

“You’d be the first guy to be okay with me writing about him, that’s for sure.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to think about what you have or have not done with other dudes, okay?”

“Fine, what did you remember?”

“Just part of a conversation I had with Luca.”

“Do you need to call Ash back?”

“No, not yet. It’s only a partial memory. It doesn’t make any sense. I need to think on it and hope more comes.”

I glare at him for a moment. Emory has told him repeatedly not to force it, but the longer we’re here, the harder he pushes. Yesterday I caught him making a timeline and filling in everything he can remember.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. My body has healed. I just need my brain to release my memory so we can figure shit out. I was going to make tacos for dinner. Why don’t you get some work done while I get them started?”

“How am I going to survive on my own when we get out of here if you keep spoiling me like this?” I meant it as a joke, but Loki’s features darken, and I try to ignore the stabbing sensation in my chest.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like it’ll be happening anytime soon, though, so you’re stuck with me,” he grumbles.

“Loki … I, I didn’t—”

“No worries, Red. It’sfine.”

Loki hates the word fine. I know that was a jab at me, but I don’t know what to say, so I retreat to my computer and work. This time, since actually running isn’t in my cards, I escape into my story.

Dinner is strained, but I can’t tell if it’s because of my comments or because of whatever revelation Loki had that has him preoccupied. Either way, I’m not looking for an argument, so after I help clean up dinner, I return to my corner and work on Marco and Lucy.

I stare blankly for a long time because nothing is coming to me. Eventually, I force words onto the screen, hoping for inspiration. After an hour, I’m ready for a glass of wine, but I don’t dare move from my spot. Loki has not been able to sit still for more than five minutes.

First, he reapplied plumbing tape to all the faucets. Then he unscrewed, sanded, and replaced the latches on all the windows. Now he is checking every floorboard, for what I’m not sure. The guy cannot sit still.

Finally, I snap.

“Loki.”

His head jerks to attention.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, concern written on his face.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with you? You haven’t stopped moving all night.”

“Nothing,” he sighs.

“Nothing? What, are you bored?”

“Red, I am so fucking bored I’m ready to shave my head just to count the hair.”