Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(35)

“Go ahead,” he says.

“And do what?” I ask, bewildered.

“You wanted to sit at the college with the sun on your face. Do it now. Enjoy your moment, Brie.”

As much as I wanted to wallow and feel sorry for myself, his suggestion is far too tempting to pass up. And sitting here, in the warmth of the beginning of summer, I realize it’s exactly what I need—to feel the breeze and soak in the heat that isn’t so stifling I can’t breathe.

The warmth of the sun is a reminder that I’m alive and okay. The salt air fills my nose, and the seagulls crow in the back, giving us the beach soundtrack that I know so well. I lean back on my elbows, looking around at the landscape that has been a constant in my life. I can remember those cliffs, the mountains in the back with caps that will be covered in snow very soon. For a few minutes, I allow myself to pretend that everything in my life will find its place. There are absolutes like the sun will rise and the moon will follow, so I cling to that even though nothing feels like it’s where it belongs.

“Thank you,” I say with my eyes closed.

“For?”

I look toward him. “For being you.”

“That’s the first time a woman has ever thanked me for that.”

“Then you are clearly with the wrong women.”

His lips turn up. “Is that so?”

I tilt my face back up to the light. “If they don’t know how great you are, then yes.”

“Maybe I don’t want them to know I’m great or maybe you’re a headcase who doesn’t know how terrible I am.”

A soft giggle escapes, and I sit up. “You have never been terrible.”

“I think that you have a very skewed perception of me,” Spencer says with deprecation.

Nothing bothers me more about him than this. He is always telling everyone how unworthy he is. Compliments are like barbs to him, and I wish that his mother were still alive so I could rip her apart. The things she convinced him of are deplorable.

“I know that you think that, but you’re wrong. You’ve always been special. Your mother was wrong, and I hate that you still carry that around,” I tell him, staring into his eyes, wanting him to really hear me.

Spencer shifts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. You said you’d never lie to me, didn’t you?”

“I meant that about your memory.”

“Should have been more specific, but it’s too late now. It’s officially on the record as a blanket promise,” I counter.

“And what about you?” he asks. “Are you going to tell me all your secrets if I ask?”

I sigh. “Isn’t that the entire point of this? I have to trust you with everything if we plan to figure out my missing life.”

“Yes, I guess it is.”

“So, I want the same, and I want more than anything for you to tell me the truth. Do you really think you’re a bad guy or unworthy?”

Spencer’s eyes turn to the waves, watching as they crash upon the sand, and he considers my question. I start to doubt that he is going to answer me, but then he says, “Every woman I’ve ever loved has forgotten about me. I don’t know where there’s value there.”

My hand moves before I have time to steady myself. I rest my palm on his cheek, waiting for him to look at me. “Spencer, your mother didn’t forget, she just wasn’t strong enough to do the right thing. And as for any woman you’ve loved who has forgotten about you, well, she’s an idiot and unworthy of you. There is no one like you, and that makes you unforgettable. And I would know, I have memory loss.”

He snorts. “I appreciate that.”

“Who did you love?” I ask and wish I hadn’t. “Forget that I asked, it’s none of my business.”

“Consider it forgotten. Not to mention, we’re here to talk about you.” He nudges me.

“Yes, that’s always fun.”

“So, you and Henry . . .”

I blink, confused as to why he would ask me about that. “What about Henry?”

“You don’t think he’s who gave you the ring?”

“You do?”

He shakes his head. “No, but that’s who you remembered and wanted.”

“Only because I woke up as the me from three years ago. But, to answer your question, no, I don’t think he proposed. If he did, and that was the ring he gave me, there’s not a chance in hell he wouldn’t have asked for it back. Plus, what you and Emmett said makes sense.”

“Emmett made sense?”

I smile. “It has been known to happen on occasion. Really, the only two options that make sense are that I put it there or the guy who gave it to me did.”

Spencer leans back on his elbows. “You’re right.”

“So, world-class-investigator Cross, how do we solve the riddle?”

“Lie down next to me,” he instructs.

“Umm, why?”

“Just do it, Brie.” Spencer’s voice is part annoyance, part amusement.

I grumble as I do as he asks.

“Now, I want you to keep your eyes closed.”

I turn my face to him, eyes flying open. “Why?”