Blyssful Lies (The Blyss Trilogy 2)

~Jules~

Foggy confusion seems to be enveloping me as I rouse from a deep slumber. I’m hearing deep, masculine voices in the background, and they’re arguing back and forth. Desperately, I try to climb my way out of a whirling, dark vortex, but an overwhelming fatigue keeps clawing at me and dragging me back under. My brain is telling my limbs to move, but my body is just not getting the memo. I groan in frustration, and that little bit of noise has brought an awareness of pain exploding in the back of my skull.

Slowly, my eyes flutter open and two men come into view. I blink twice, because—Holy mother of Moses, did I die and go to heaven? My eyes hone in on the man to my right. I’m spellbound, because standing before me is a true Adonis. He has mountains of muscles, and he must be over six feet of unquestionable sin. The man should be illegal, or at least come with a warning label.

He looks as if he came straight out of a swimming pool and stepped right onto a GQ photo shoot set. I think I need to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming this up. His blue jeans and black t-shirt are soaking wet and clinging to every inch of his body, outlining every muscle one would see in a fitness magazine. I watch in wonder as his skin glistens under the lights, and then I take notice of a few water droplets precariously teetering from the tips of his wet hair. A warm smile begins to play across his lips as he inches closer, showcasing the most brilliant green eyes I’ve ever seen, and I gasp. Yes, I do believe I’ve made it past the pearly gates. Hot damn!

“You think I’m sexy?” His lips twitch with mirth as he hovers his well-defined body over mine without touching me. My eyes trail up his thickly roped, tan biceps and end at his eyes, which are dancing with mischief.

I lick my dry lips nervously as a croaky question slips out. “What are you talking about?” What kind of stranger just saunters up to someone and asks them if they’re sexy? Arrogant much? And why is my voice all messed up? Then I’m hit with an embarrassing realization, which contains blush-worthy knowledge: I just slipped up and spoke my thoughts aloud. Suddenly, I feel the blush rising to the tips of my ears, burning them to a crisp.

I avert my gaze from his in mortification, and glance around at my surroundings instead. I tilt my head to the side; something seems a little off with this picture, and I’m not quite sure what it is. I can’t seem to put my finger on it, but there are too many things that seem out of place. Confusion begins to consume me, and perhaps a bit of panic, because I feel my heart beginning to speed up as my eyes dart around the room with uncertainty. Before panic mode fully sets in, I feel hands grabbing mine, drawing my attention back to him as he anchors me with his mesmerizing voice.

“Hey now, shhh, don’t panic,” he softly whispers with a rich, baritone voice. This handsome man has me captivated as I watch him lean further in, stopping almost nose-to-nose with me. I can see concern dancing behind those bright orbs of his. “You’re going to be all right. I’ve got you.”

Frowning in confusion, my voice comes out low and raspy. “Who are you? Where am I, and—”

He interrupts me, his eyes wide with surprise, “Don’t you remember anything…anything at all?” he asks, disconcerted.

“No.” I wrinkle my nose. He should know I don’t know who he is. I glance to the other man, who looks older and highly distinguished with his salt and pepper hair. “What’s going on?” I ask.

He looks upon me with fatherly concern as his eyes crinkle at the corners. He lowers himself to my height as he explains. “I’m Dr. Anderson, and you’re in a hospital in Charleston, South Carolina.” He gestures with his hand to the other man. “This is Travis. He’s the one who brought you here. You were in an accident, and it caused a bit of head trauma.” I digest his words as understanding begins to register as to why my head is throbbing and I’m in a hospital bed, but it doesn’t answer the question of who these men are. “Dear, do you know your name?”

I stop to ponder the question. I was too busy trying to figure out who these men are to even consider such a ludicrous query, but he’s got me. I look to the doctor, searching his face, wanting him to clue me in, but he doesn’t. “Oh, my God!” I gasp. “I don’t even remember me!” My hand lifts to cover my mouth, panic-stricken, but Travis intercepts my hand and holds them both as he gives them a gentle, reassuring squeeze, but I’m nowhere near reassured.