don’t want to have to spell this out for you! It’s too weird! Just-’ she pointed to the book. ‘Read that, okay? It’ll answer all your questions without my assistance.’ ‘You think I’m going to take a book recommendation from a woman who threw Fifty Shades Of Grey in my face last night, like it was of some sort of literary import? Ha! Thanks, but I’ll stick with The Times for my picks, while you scrape the bottom of the literotica barrel.’ Leigh spun around on the steps leading up to the dock and got in his face. ‘Screw you, Weaver, I read everything- from the trash to the classics, so don’t even try to get on that high horse with me, or I’ll toss you off and have it buck you in your perfect face!’ Ryan recoiled, but he looked more amused than affronted. ‘Again with the face? Honey, if you want me that badly then please for both our sake’s- just try asking nicely and I’ll see if I can’t muster up a pity screw, to replace the one you’re missing.’ It was the ‘Honey’ that did it this time. ‘Oh you know what?!’ she exploded, fear of confrontation dissolving. ‘After Bruce told me about your condition, I actually felt sorry for you. I actually gave you the benefit of the doubt! But you don’t deserve either- clearly it’s for the best that you’ve lost your memory, because it was probably just twenty years of slimy, worthless data that belongs at the bottom of Niagara Gorge anyway, if who you are without it is THIS grotesque!’ Ryan looked like she’d punched him in the stomach, and he retreated back a step. ‘Carter told you about my accident? And you’re throwing it in my face like I deserved it? I was almost killed!’ ‘No! No I came down here to apologize to you this morning! To explain myself calmly, but then you saw me and you made that comment in front of everyone and embarrassed me and I realised that I have NOTHING to feel bad about because memory loss or not- you’re just plain MEAN.’ Ryan’s eyes narrowed. ‘You came down here to throw my iPad back in my face in front of a bunch of people, yet you’re calling me mean?’ He gave her a disgusted look. ‘I smiled at you yesterday because you were beautiful and I’m a guy, and you had a book in your hands and I love girls who read…’ he snorted. ‘Sorry- I thought I loved girls who read but clearly that’s just one more muddled memory...’ Leigh felt a flash of some nondescript emotion surge through her but she twisted her heart away from it and focused on the more prominent feelings swirling through her. ‘Yeah, well it must be because I don’t think you could handle a woman smart enough to be literate if you tried- though you have been trying awfully hard, from what I can gather.’ ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ His eyes were neon again. ‘Quit speaking in riddles.’ ‘Fine.’ Leigh stepped down a step and held the book up in Ryan’s face, fit to be tied and ready to do whatever it took to clarify the embrangled situation. ‘What is this to you?’ ‘Um… What is a Book, Alex?’ He leaned around the outside of it and jogged his brows. ‘Did I pass the IQ test? Did I? Can I ‘Do you’ now and fix what ails yah?’ Leigh growled and thrust it closer to his nose. ‘Try again!’ Ryan smacked it down without looking at it. ‘The book you carry around like it’s a pet, but leave behind and thump people with like it’s a weapon?’ But Leigh was done with the exchange of barbed words. ‘Touché, but all that aside…’ she held it up again. ‘Is this, or is this not, the book you chose to model yourself after when you went with the name, Ryan Weaver?’ ‘Eh?’ Ryan looked form her, to the book, and then squinted at her. ‘I don’t even understand that question! I modelled? Is that how you know me?’ He rubbed his jaw and glanced out at the river. ‘Huh… that makes sense, and definitely explains the way panties drop-’ Leigh thumped him with the book again.