Page 69 of Top Shelf

I laugh humorlessly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Scrubbing at my face, I emit a weary sigh. “At first, that’s what I believed. My memories…what IthoughtI was remembering…” I shake my head, still so confused and uncertain about all of it.

“When I first showed up here, they would try to hunt me down.”

“They what?!” Dylan shrieks in outrage.

“Not like that,” I attempt to reassure her. “I think they just wanted to talk. I don’t know. I avoided them—obviously.” I hesitate, chewing my inner lip. “But then I started getting to know them.”

“And?” Dylan asks, her voice soft and unsure.

“And I think what I thought I was remembering was wrong.”

“What do you mean?” She looks as confused as I feel.

“I mean, at first, in my memories, Ronan’s voice was this harsh thing telling me to shut up, to be quiet, to stay still. Silas’s eyes were chips of ice, frigid and unfeeling, and Lucian’s grip was bruising, painful, but now…it’s all different. When I recall that night, Ronan’s voice is soothing as he tells me everything will be okay. Silas’s eyes are flooded with concern, and Lucian’s grip is comforting. Protective, even.”

Dylan’s quiet for a long beat, her brows drawn low inthought. Then, slowly, as though thinking over each word, she asks, “How are each of them with you now?”

I blink. “What?”

She shifts a little, facing me more directly. “Lucian. Ronan. Silas. How do they treat you? Since you got here. Not in your dreams. Not in your memories. I mean inreal life. Day to day.”

“They’ve never made me feel unsafe,” I admit. “Not really. I mean, Lucian’s intense. And Ronan’s infuriating. And Silas is just—” I huff a breath, unsure how to explain him. “He doesn’t talk. Like, at all. He communicates with looks and handwritten notes. Yet somehow, I feel like he sees right through me. We connect on this whole other wavelength that doesn’t feel as though it should be possible and doesn’t really make sense; it just…is.”

Dylan nods slowly. “Okay…so no red flags? No weird vibes? No feeling cornered or controlled?”

“Weirdly, no.” I shake my head. “Which is strange in itself because Silas knows what coffee I like and Lucian has a bad habit of cornering me in supply closets, and Ronan weaseled his way onto a work project with me…”

“But?” Dylan asks when I go silent.

I shake my head. “On paper, yes, it sounds like it should be concerning, but I don’tfeelconcerned, if that makes sense.”

Dylan hums, as if understanding. “It does. I felt the same way around the guys. After everything Lucas did, I couldn’t trust men, and when I found out I’d accidentally been assigned to an entire house with them, I panicked. But there was something about Jax, Finn, and Ethan that just put me at ease. Without understanding why, I felt safe with them.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s how I feel about Ronan, Silas, and Lucian.” I sigh. “The problem is, I have reason to doubt them.”

“You have drug-induced memories that you can’t rely on,”Dylan spells out, waiting until I meet her gaze before adding. “Trust your gut. What does your gut instinct tell you?”

I chew on my lower lip. Dylan gives me the time to sift through everything I know so far about each of the guys. My memories.

“My gut tells me that there’s more than what my memories recall.”

Dylan’s eyes sharpen. “Then you know what you need to do.”

I nod, already knowing. I’ve known for a while now. I’ve just been too chicken shit to actually ask.

“I’m scared,” I admit aloud for the first time.

“I know.” She moves into me, our bodies pressed together from shoulder to hip. “But this thing—it’s already taken so much from you. Don’t let it take your future too.”

I nod, emotion catching in my chest. A tear slips down my cheek, and she wipes it away with her thumb like it’s nothing. Like I’m not coming undone in her arms.

“I missed you so much,” I whisper.

“I missed you more, Winslow.”

She says it with a soft smile, like it’s an unshakable truth. And in that moment, I let myself believe it.

I let myself believeher.