Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(46)

He lets out a sigh and stands. “I want to help you remember, not allow you to forget.” He walks over and grabs his sweatshirt and notebook.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He doesn’t turn to face me for a long minute, but when he does, he says, “We all have shit in our past we’d rather forget. I know that better than anyone, but hiding from it doesn’t erase it. Just because you can’t remember, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. So, you choose if you want my help to piece together your life or if you’d rather start this new version of it.”

“What I want is to have some fun and not have everything be so crushing.”

Spencer’s green eyes study me. “Maybe that’s where we’re going wrong with this.”

“What?”

“Maybe we need to listen to everyone else and give your mind a chance to breathe and not force it back. Maybe we shouldn’t be investigating and we should let you live.” Spencer takes a few steps, closing the distance between us. His hand pushes my hair back as his thumb rubs my cheek. “Maybe you need to go on a date.”

Oh. Oh God. “With who?”

He grins. “With me.”





I am going on a date.

A date with Spencer.

After kissing him. It’s fine. I am totally not freaking out.

Lie.

However, I am dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, which is what he instructed me to wear to wherever he plans to take me. For the first time since all of this happened, I feel a pinch of joy. I’m going on a date . . . with Spencer.

He sends me a text, and then I’m standing at the door waiting.

“Hey,” he says when he gets to the door.

“Hey.”

He hands me a bouquet. “These are for you.”

“Flowers? For our fake date?” I bring them to my nose to hide my blush. Henry never brought me flowers, and I adore that Spencer did.

“Who says this is fake?”

“Well, I did. We’re not dating.”

“We are going on a date. A real one. So, are you ready?” he asks.

“Let me put these in water.” I head into the kitchen, fill up the pitcher, and put the flowers in there. I rush back over to him with a smile. “Ready.”

“Perfect.”

He extends his arm, and I take it.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I pout a little. “I really would love it if you’d tell me.”

He grins down at me, his dark hair falling in his eyes for a moment. “I know you’re in the dark a lot lately, but I want you to enjoy not knowing what’s to come.”

“That’s very philosophical of you.”

Spencer laughs. “I’m a man of many mysteries, Miss Davis.”

“Not so much.”

He tilts his head. “Is that so?”

“Yes, you’re not very mysterious. I know you just as well as I know myself.”

“Well, considering you don’t know yourself all that well lately, I think I know you better.”

“Do you now?”

“I do.”

I shake my head with a grin. “You’re cocky, I’ll give you that much.”

“I’m confident. Big difference.”

“Okay, how about a wager?” I challenge.

“About what?”

“That I know you better than you know me, but it has to be pre-memory loss stuff. I’m talking about the things that are in our pasts that you think I don’t know and vice versa.”

“You’re on. What’s the wager?” he asks as he opens my car door.

I hold on to the top of the door, leaning my head on it as I smile at him. “If I get more than you, then you have to kiss me again.”

“That’s one way to get me to lose. Besides, this is a date, so aren’t I obligated to kiss you at the end anyway?”

I giggle. “Okay, fine. If I win, you have to tell me one thing about my life in the last three years that I don’t know.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

I could push my luck and try to get him to tell me something specific, but really, so long as it’s more than I already have, I’ll be happy.

“And if I win”—Spencer rests his hands on either side of mine—“then you have to go on another date with me.”

“Isn’t that customary to ask at the end?”

“Maybe I’d like to go in knowing I’m already winning.”

God, I am in so much trouble. This is every damn fantasy I’ve had all coming to fruition. Here he is, flirting with me, talking about kissing me, and planning another date. I want it all. I wish this were my life instead of just a day of fun.

“I don’t know if that’s all that fair,” I say, moving just a smidge closer.

“Why is that?”

“Because what if I want to lose now.”

“That’s for you to decide. Is winning better than losing?”

I lift one shoulder, biting my lower lip. “Winning is always better.”

“All right, then, you go first. What do you know about me that I think is unknown?”