The Kisses I Don't Remember

I wake up with swollen lips every morning lately, and I have no idea why. I sleepwalk. Then I saw the mark on the neck of the man I share the house with.

Right on cue, a line of comments drifted across my vision: [The sleepy side character sleepwalks every night and steals kisses off the yandere ML.

He's about to meet his online girlfriend in person. He's only using you to practice kissing.] That night, I came to in the middle of kissing him.

I panicked, let go, and tried to run. He opened his eyes, and they were burning. "Keep going," he said, hoarse.

Chapter 1 When I came back to myself, Desmond had me locked in his arms. His eyes were hazy, fixed on my mouth. Pure possession. The way a man looks at something sweet.

Something he can't help wanting to eat. But he didn't move. He seemed to be waiting for me to start it. My wrists were bound together with a ribbon. I couldn't move them.

And then I saw the comments again, streaking past my eyes. [Here we go AGAIN again again, the side character's back to working the yandere ML.] [Imogen blushes just talking to her cold landlord.] [And at night she pulls something this BOLDDD.] [I'm calling it.

The sleepwalking is fake.] [Imogen has a nice enough face, but next to a toptier beauty like our FL Vivienne?

It isn't close.] [An ordinary girl like her could throw herself at a topshelf man like Desmond her whole life and never get a taste.] [So she fakes the sleepwalking, pushes his door open every night, and drops right into his lap.] [The scheming on this one.] [Somebody hold me back, I want to slap her for our FL girl.] I've had dissociative sleep episodes since I was a child.

What happens is this: in deep sleep my consciousness cuts out and my body goes on moving by itself. Sometimes my consciousness comes back partway and I snap awake.

With no idea what has been happening. A short blank where the memory should be. I have it because my parents moved out of state for work and left me with my aunt and uncle.

There were three kids in that house, and one pot of stew never went far enough. I only ever got a scant half portion. I was never full.

Even in my dreams I was looking for something to eat. Back then, once I fell asleep, I'd go into the kitchen without knowing I was doing it and eat whatever I could find.

My aunt caught me at it. After that, she tied my hands together every night before bed. So I couldn't sneak food.

Later my parents brought me back to live with them, and there was enough to eat. My dissociative sleep episodes stopped for years.

And then, three months ago, I moved into Desmond's house, and they started up again. Over and over. Every night before bed, I put a hair tie around my wrist.

Every morning when I wake up, the hair tie is gone. And my lips are always swollen. At first I had no idea what I was doing in the middle of the night.

I figured the worst of it was raiding the fridge. That my lips were swollen from sneaking food. Until this morning. I went into the bathroom to wash up.

Desmond was standing at the mirror. He hooked one long finger into the collar of his robe and pulled it aside. There on his neck, bright red, was a hickey.

That was the first time I saw the comments. They said that every night I went and stole kisses from Desmond.

They said Desmond wanted nothing to do with it at first, but I came on too strong for him to keep saying no. The comments let something else slip, too.

Desmond was seeing someone online. Her name is Vivienne, and she's the female lead of this story. Chapter 2 Desmond was about to meet the girl he'd been seeing online.

And he was using me to practice kissing. Once I knew the truth, I tied my own wrists together with a ribbon before bed tonight. It didn't matter. I had an episode anyway.

Now I looked down at the ribbon around my wrists. I tried to work them free. Desmond's voice came low against my ear. "Let me." His fingertips traced my wrist.

Something like a current ran from there into my blood. Desmond took the black ribbon he'd just undone, laid it over his own eyes, and knotted it.

Smooth, practiced, like he'd done it a thousand times.

He settled back against the headboard, his voice so hoarse it shook. "Start…" Desmond has a face that would make any woman lose her mind.

He's six feet three, built like a top model. Day to day, he's ice. Right then, the collar of his silk robe had fallen open to his abs. There for the taking.

It was almost unbearable. The tips of my ears went pink. He wanted me to start… Start what?

The comments streamed past. [This is the signal between the side character and the ML.] [It means the ML is giving her permission to kiss him.] [This is exactly how Desmond's kissing got so good.] [The reason Desmond covers his eyes with the ribbon is that he doesn't want to look at Imogen's face.] [Eyes shut, he can imagine she's Vivienne, the girl he's seeing online.] [Lucky side character.

She's eating well tonight.] [And Imogen has all the patience in the world about it.

A full hour in his room every time, kissing until she's had her fill, then she leaves.] [I'm SO mad.

That was the ML's first kiss and it was supposed to be saved for the FL, and this scheming side character took it.] [Fine, fine, no point being mad. He's only practicing on her.

Our FL girl gets the finished product.] I got up and fled. The second the door shut behind me.

Desmond pulled the ribbon off his eyes, and his dark eyes were full of something complicated. Back in my own room I locked the door and got under the covers. My face was burning.

Every time I shut my eyes, all I could see was Desmond propped against the headboard, waiting for me to kiss him. I swallowed. And then I remembered the first time I ever saw him.

Three months ago, on a quiet little street in an old neighborhood. Desmond in a suit, standing under a ginkgo tree, on the phone.

I thought he was the broker I'd scheduled a showing with. I even took a picture of him on the sly and sent it to my best friend: [Rental brokers look like this now??

I'm deceased.] He looked up at me and hung up. I walked over. "Hi.

Can you take me to see the place?" He blinked. "You're looking to rent?" Which was when I realized I had the wrong man. "Yes.

I have a showing scheduled with a broker and I thought you were him. Sorry." "It's fine." And he walked into the brownstone next to the ginkgo tree.

The broker showed me places for days and nothing fit. Houses in that neighborhood are absurdly expensive. Every square foot of it is worth a fortune.

Even a partitionedoff box of a hundred and sixty square feet runs three thousand a month. I'm an attorney. If it weren't for the easy commute, I'd never rent in that neighborhood.

I was ready to give up. And then I ran into Desmond under the ginkgo tree again. Chapter 3 He said he had a room in his house sitting empty and he could rent it to me cheap.

He also said he had a cat named Noodle. When he worked late, I'd feed her for him. The first floor of the house had the yard, plus the living room, the kitchen, and a home gym.

The second floor had the primary bedroom, a study, and a second bedroom. The third floor was a lounge and a big roof terrace.

He rented me the second bedroom for twelve hundred a month. I said yes on the spot, terrified he'd change his mind.

I knew I was getting away with something, so for three months I didn't just feed his cat. Sometimes I cooked for him. He paid me back in kind. Breakfast every morning.

Day to day, we were unfailingly polite with each other. And now it turned out that in the middle of the night I was doing something that bold to him. It was mortifying.

Social death. How was I ever supposed to look at him again? The comments piled on. [The side character gets the deal and plays innocent.

She wants it both ways.] [Desmond has a girlfriend online.

If she actually wanted to keep her distance, she wouldn't be renting his room.] [Won't leave, and uses her sleep condition to get her hands on the ML.

I can't stand her.] [Doesn't matter.

Even if she refuses to move out, once Vivienne and Desmond meet in person, Desmond will throw her out himself.] I remembered that right after I moved in, I heard Desmond on the phone with his father.

His dad asked if he was seeing anyone. He looked at me and said he wasn't. So back then, Desmond was single.

These last two months, he really had been on his phone constantly, typing. So that was it. He'd met someone online.

And if he already had a girlfriend online, my renting his room really wasn't a good idea. He'd want to bring her home eventually. That would be too awkward for words.

His room was right next to mine, and the walls were thin. And there was only one bathroom on the second floor. We shared it.

The other one is on the first floor, with no shower, which isn't convenient. Thinking all this through, I texted my old broker: [I'm planning to move soon.

Send me anything good.] The broker: [You got the steal of the century last time and now you don't want it?] Me: [Yeah. It doesn't work for me anymore.

I want to move.] The broker: [I'll keep an eye out and take you to see anything that fits.] Me: [Great, thank you.] Once I was done texting him. I put my phone on the nightstand.

Footsteps in the hall. From the sound of it, Desmond had come out of his room. He went into the bathroom. Water started running.

The comments streamed past. [Desmond's taking a cold shower.] [I'm not going to say why he's taking a cold shower.] [The side character lit that fire, that's why.] [I don't know about that.

I think he got worked up texting his online girl a minute ago…] [Hold on. Didn't the side character leave the slip she took off tonight in the bathroom?] [God, she's the worst.

All she does is work the ML. She 100% did it on purpose.] My eye twitched. There probably was a slip of mine in the hamper.

My best friend had called while I was in there and I forgot to wash it. I really didn't do it on purpose. The suit I'd worn to work that day was in the hamper too.

Desmond wouldn't… see it, would he? He'd only just gone in. Maybe he hadn't started yet. The comments kept saying I faked the sleepwalking, which gave me an idea.

If Desmond hadn't started yet. Chapter 4 Then could I pretend to be sleepwalking and go get the slip back? It seemed doable.

I came out of my room, down the hall, and stopped at the bathroom door. From inside came Desmond's voice, low and held in check. "Baby, I miss you so much…" I froze where I stood.

So much for the plan. I turned around and went back to my room. An hour later. Half under, I heard the bathroom door open. I wanted to wake up and couldn't. I had a dream.

I dreamed Desmond pushed open the door of my room. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at my sleeping face.

And said, sick with feeling, "Baby, I'm not letting you leave this time…" The nightmare held on to me all night. Early the next morning.

The comments woke me up. [Is the side character casting herself as Desmond's online girl in her dreams now?] [She's absolutely in love with Desmond.] [Why else would she dream something like that?] [Right, right, and she dreamed he locked her up, too.] [You dream at night about what you think about all day, I guess?] [Zero shame.] [FL, please meet the ML in person already, I can't take the side character anymore.] Last night I dreamed about the cord that used to be tied around my wrists when I was little, and it was tying Desmond and me together.

I was hungry, and I'd made Desmond into food. We were tied up together in a dim room, and I felt safe. As if, as long as he was there, I'd never be hungry again.

Desmond's door was shut. I went to the bathroom to wash up. Every piece of laundry in the hamper was gone.

I went around to the laundry room and found a sticky note on the dryer door. [I got the clothes in the hamper wet last night by accident while I was showering.

I washed them and they're in the dryer, don't forget them.] I took the clothes out of the dryer one at a time. When I got to the slip, my face wouldn't stop burning.

It was still warm from the dryer. I held it under my nose, and I could smell Desmond on it. Desmond's body wash and his detergent are customblended. The price is obscene.

I use the drugstore kind. And now my slip carried that scent that belongs to him… There was something charged about it I couldn't name.

I breathed in deep, and it went from my nose straight into my heart. The comments streamed past. [I can't.

Side character, stop drooling.] [Go find an apartment and move out, stop holding up the ML and FL meeting.] I went back to my room, changed into my work suit, and went down for breakfast.

Desmond was at the kitchen island, concentrating on making sandwiches. Morning light came through the window onto that unfairly handsome profile.

Desmond's family is supposed to be very rich. The house may not be large, but every square foot of that block is worth a fortune. Money alone doesn't get you one.

If he hadn't happened to need someone to feed his cat, I'd never have gotten a place this good. And he and I would never have crossed paths at all.

And this house is only one of the many properties in his name. The Colvins own an office building in Manhattan. Desmond works at the family company.

My firm is in that same district. Close to the house. Easy commute. A man like that, even meeting someone online, is going to end up with someone from his own world.

I shouldn't be imagining anything. It was time for me to go.

Desmond finished the two sandwiches, looked up, and said mildly, "Breakfast is almost ready." Chapter 5 He was so composed about it, as if last night had never happened.

Though maybe he didn't know my consciousness had come back partway through. He probably thought me leaving his room was just another unconscious reflex. I sat down at the table.

Desmond set a sandwich and a glass of milk in front of me.

We looked at each other and started talking at the same time. "Imogen…" "Desmond…" He stopped. "You first." I took a breath and said it slowly. "I'm not renting past the end of the month." Desmond's eyes stayed on mine. "Why?" I thought about it and found a reason. "I… I'm seeing someone.

Living here isn't really appropriate. My boyfriend would be jealous." Desmond