yeah. We got a lot done.’
‘Did he recall anything about the murder?’
Well burst my bubble. My stomach dropped. ‘No. I’m not working with him on remembering that.’
He scoffed at my direct admission.
‘Dr. Andrews, you’re the one who diagnosed him with post-traumatic or dissociative amnesia. You and I both know that he’s distanced himself from important personal information about himself and his life. His memory can likely be restored over time, but the events leading up to the trauma will likely be the last to be remembered. Or never remembered at all.’
Dr. Andrews shuffled his feet, still frowning.
‘Besides, that’s what the police-assigned psychologist is for.’
‘Listen, Ashlyn, I’m only trying to look out for you. He’s dangerous. You haven’t read the police file.’
My belly danced with nerves, both wanting and not wanting to know what the police records contained.
‘They’d found him in an abandoned warehouse, covered in blood, a sledgehammer nearby and the dead body of another man lying beside him. He’d beaten the hell out of him. Gruesome stuff.’
My skin broke out in chill bumps. I just couldn’t imagine Logan being dangerous.
‘He’s a young man who doesn’t even know his name, and though I appreciate your concern, I know what I’m doing.’ I turned and strode towards the elevator, faking a confidence I so did not feel. I stabbed the down button several times for good measure, and when I turned around, Dr. Andrews was gone.
That night I lay in bed, looking over the curving script scrawled on my hip in the dim moonlight seeping in through the blinds. I ran my fingertips lightly along my skin, just the way Logan had. A low throbbing ache built between my legs, needing so much more. I let my fingers dance just below the waistband of my panties and imagined it was Logan’s palm that was laid flat on my stomach. I closed my eyes and let myself imagine what kind of lover he would be. Through our visits, I was able to read his emotions almost better than my own. He felt entirely alone and craved comfort and closeness. Feelings I couldn’t even let myself explore with him.
My fingers dipped lower, finding myself already wet. I stroked the swollen bud softly, as I imagined Logan would and moaned as pleasure rocketed through me. I never touched myself like this, preferring instead the efficiency of my vibrator, which quickly got the job done. But tonight as I daydreamed of Logan, I wanted to draw it out, to make the sensations last. To have his face in my mind and his name on my lips when I came.
‘The amount of time you’re spending at the hospital isn’t healthy, Ash,’ Liz said, stepping forward to get in line for coffee. ‘It’s not normal.’
I opened my mouth to respond, and she held up one hand, stopping me. ‘And don’t say it’s for your thesis. I talked to Clancy and he said you have plenty of outside material, and that your thesis outline is nearly done.’
I closed my mouth, unable to use the defense I’d been about to employ. I had a draft of my thesis outline complete. Logan’s situation was only a small part of it, a real-life reference point in all the other data. It hadn’t felt right to make his case front and center, dramatizing his pain that way.
I followed Liz towards the counter, needing much more caffeine to even consider discussing my relationship with Logan with her.
Over the last few weeks, I’d managed my schedule so that I could swing by the hospital and see Logan every day, even if it was only for thirty minutes between classes. My attraction to him hadn’t begun to fade. In fact, it only seemed to intensify each time I saw him. But knowing I’d never be able to act on it, my feelings stayed bottled up. He was safe in the hospital for now, which made me feel the tiniest bit better. If he were to get out, though…I had no idea what might happen between us. Our sexual chemistry was ready to combust.
I had avoided elaborating on my visits to Liz, harboring a sense to guard what was developing between Logan and me.
‘Tell me what’s going on, Ash. This isn’t like you to get so obsessed about a test subject.’
I swallowed hard. I needed to come clean about Logan. He wasn’t just some test subject. He hadn’t been from the beginning, and now after spending several weeks with him, talking music and literature, tasting all kinds of foods, I knew we had grown close. Too close as far as doctor-patient relationships went, even if I wasn’t a doctor yet.
I suppressed a grin at the thought of Logan, struggling to keep my game face on in front of Liz. She’d jump on me at the first sign that something was off.
Even though my visits hadn’t helped Logan to remember anything, spending time together brought him a sort of peace, he’d said. I provided a brief escape from his pain, and a break from the investigators who still questioned him, but were running into roadblocks as they tried to build their case.
I stepped up to the counter to place my order. ‘Small skim latte.’
Liz barked her order to the cashier and handed him her card. ‘I know I’ve been encouraging you to get laid, but I didn’t mean with him. I don’t care how good looking he is. He’s a mental patient for fuck’s sake.’
The dreadlocked cashier raised his eyebrows, looking between Liz and me. Great. I dropped my loose change into the tip jar and marched to the end of the bar to wait for my drink, clenching my fists at my sides.
We sat down in the cushy chairs in the back of the café, sipping our drinks. Liz’s knowing gaze never left mine. ‘Tell me what’s going on. Since you met him, you’ve become even more of a hermit than before.’
I ducked my head, sucking in a sip of my latte. Damn, too hot. I knew she was right, but I couldn’t explain the pull that Logan had over me. Maybe it wasn’t healthy spending so much time at the hospital. I almost laughed at the obviousness in that statement. But Logan wasn’t crazy. I knew that for sure. I also knew with absolute certainty that I’d be the one to go insane if our sexual chemistry got any hotter.
‘I’ve got it under control, Liz.’
Each day I entered his room he lifted me into his arms and held me tight before setting my feet on the floor. I couldn’t help but think that he was craving the physical affection after the weeks alone.
Dr. Andrews had seen us hug once and I’d instantly felt ashamed and embarrassed for letting myself grow so attached to a patient. Of course, it hadn’t stopped me from visiting Logan every day. I just tried harder to avoid Dr. Andrews.
Over coffee, Liz tried to convince me that I needed to take a break from my work with Logan, that I was becoming obsessed. When she dropped me off afterwards, and saw the embarrassing state of my apartment, I started to think maybe she was right. Stacks of textbooks and a small mountain of notes had spilled from my overstuffed bookcase just inside the entryway, providing an obstacle to even getting through the front door. I had thought nothing of stepping over the heap the last several days, but watching Liz clumsily navigate it embarrassed me. I led her farther into the apartment, where at least the sofa was
