with.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and mutters, “God, you’re such a bitch.”
“What?”
“You’re engaged. Sue me for hating you a little. You get the perfect life and the hottie on the side.”
“The hottie on the side might ruin the perfect life!” As much as I want to tell myself that my secret was safe, as much as I want to let go of what might or might not have happened with Nate, I can’t stop obsessing over what I’ve done. What if my memories don’t return? I need answers.
Liz frowns. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. But come on. Who could blame you? Nate. Fucking. Crane. You were fucking Nate Crane.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” I protest.
She cocks her head. “How familiar was he with your body when he was touching you in the dark?”
I wince. “This sucks.”
She shakes her head as if still trying to clear away sleepiness. “Okay, so you saw him at the party and realized he was the guy. Then what? Did he approach you?”
“No. The opposite. He saw me and went in the other direction. But this is my life, you know? My future with this really great guy. And the more time I spend with Max, the more sure I am that he’s the right guy for me, and I don’t want to screw this up, but maybe I already have. So I followed Nate outside and told him I have amnesia and he asked when the engagement happened—before or after the amnesia, as if that made a difference—and I told him before and he was upset all over again and wouldn’t talk to me about it. He walked away without answering any of my questions, but I got a hold of his cell phone and read through some of our texts to each other, and it looks really bad, and now I don’t know who to talk to or where to get answers, but I’m scared I’ll lose Max if I tell him and…” I take a long, gasping breath. “Help.”
“Okay.” She sets her coffee on the counter and comes over to put her hands on my shoulders. “This is going to be all right. We’re going to figure this out. Together. But first you have to breathe.”
“Right.” I draw in another shaky breath. And another. I’m on my third before Lizzy’s nodding and smiling.
“Okay. Now do you think you and Nate were just…”
“Just what?”
“Do you think he just came by for booty calls, or do you think you had a relationship?”
“He said, ‘I’m the idiot who’s in love with you.’ Those were his words, ‘the idiot who’s in love with you.’ And then the text messages…?”
“Dirty?”
I nod. “Really dirty.”
“Oh, damn, girl.”
“I know. Right?”
She rubs her hands together. “Okay. I could talk to Nate, right? Feel him out?”
“He’s hella pissed at me, Liz. I don’t think he’s any more likely to talk to you.”
“What about Asher?” she asks, but my horror must be evident on my face because she says, “Okay, okay, bad idea. No one else needs to know until they need to know, right?”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Your phone!” she exclaims. “We didn’t know who we were looking for yesterday! Look in your contacts first. Maybe you have his name programmed as something else.”
I scroll through my contacts until I see find his name staring back at me. “He’s here. Programmed into my phone.”
She makes a hurry-up gesture with her hand. “Well, click on the history.”
I frown. I called him last Friday. That was the day of my accident. We had a three-minute conversation. About what? Judging from his reaction when he saw my ring, I obviously wasn’t telling him about my engagement.
“Oh, hell, Liz. This doesn’t make any sense.”
She snatches the phone from my hand and starts scrolling through the history under Nate’s contact info. “But you said there were texts from you on his phone?”
“Yeah. A lot of them. I didn’t get very far back before he found me and took it back.”
“But there’s nothing on your phone, which seems to indicate you deleted the evidence.”
I cross my arms. “It
She squeezes her eyes shut and mutters, “God, you’re such a bitch.”
“What?”
“You’re engaged. Sue me for hating you a little. You get the perfect life and the hottie on the side.”
“The hottie on the side might ruin the perfect life!” As much as I want to tell myself that my secret was safe, as much as I want to let go of what might or might not have happened with Nate, I can’t stop obsessing over what I’ve done. What if my memories don’t return? I need answers.
Liz frowns. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. But come on. Who could blame you? Nate. Fucking. Crane. You were fucking Nate Crane.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” I protest.
She cocks her head. “How familiar was he with your body when he was touching you in the dark?”
I wince. “This sucks.”
She shakes her head as if still trying to clear away sleepiness. “Okay, so you saw him at the party and realized he was the guy. Then what? Did he approach you?”
“No. The opposite. He saw me and went in the other direction. But this is my life, you know? My future with this really great guy. And the more time I spend with Max, the more sure I am that he’s the right guy for me, and I don’t want to screw this up, but maybe I already have. So I followed Nate outside and told him I have amnesia and he asked when the engagement happened—before or after the amnesia, as if that made a difference—and I told him before and he was upset all over again and wouldn’t talk to me about it. He walked away without answering any of my questions, but I got a hold of his cell phone and read through some of our texts to each other, and it looks really bad, and now I don’t know who to talk to or where to get answers, but I’m scared I’ll lose Max if I tell him and…” I take a long, gasping breath. “Help.”
“Okay.” She sets her coffee on the counter and comes over to put her hands on my shoulders. “This is going to be all right. We’re going to figure this out. Together. But first you have to breathe.”
“Right.” I draw in another shaky breath. And another. I’m on my third before Lizzy’s nodding and smiling.
“Okay. Now do you think you and Nate were just…”
“Just what?”
“Do you think he just came by for booty calls, or do you think you had a relationship?”
“He said, ‘I’m the idiot who’s in love with you.’ Those were his words, ‘the idiot who’s in love with you.’ And then the text messages…?”
“Dirty?”
I nod. “Really dirty.”
“Oh, damn, girl.”
“I know. Right?”
She rubs her hands together. “Okay. I could talk to Nate, right? Feel him out?”
“He’s hella pissed at me, Liz. I don’t think he’s any more likely to talk to you.”
“What about Asher?” she asks, but my horror must be evident on my face because she says, “Okay, okay, bad idea. No one else needs to know until they need to know, right?”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Your phone!” she exclaims. “We didn’t know who we were looking for yesterday! Look in your contacts first. Maybe you have his name programmed as something else.”
I scroll through my contacts until I see find his name staring back at me. “He’s here. Programmed into my phone.”
She makes a hurry-up gesture with her hand. “Well, click on the history.”
I frown. I called him last Friday. That was the day of my accident. We had a three-minute conversation. About what? Judging from his reaction when he saw my ring, I obviously wasn’t telling him about my engagement.
“Oh, hell, Liz. This doesn’t make any sense.”
She snatches the phone from my hand and starts scrolling through the history under Nate’s contact info. “But you said there were texts from you on his phone?”
“Yeah. A lot of them. I didn’t get very far back before he found me and took it back.”
“But there’s nothing on your phone, which seems to indicate you deleted the evidence.”
I cross my arms. “It
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