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But things were different with Austin. He checked boxes I didn’t even realize existed. If there was a perfect man factory somewhere out there, they’d be shipping boxes of Austin Romero out to every corner of the globe.

“We’d been talking for a month,” Austin said. “Pretty much spent every day together for that month. Told our friends we were just working on a special project together for one of our classes, although they probably figured something out.” He shot me a playful grin. “With the way you always looked at me, things were hard to hide?”

“Oh, how I was looking at you?” I arched a brow. “I’ll just say, for the record, you’ve been eye-fucking me since the moment we met.” I quickly corrected myself. “The moment we saw each other. I’m pretty sure you know what underwear I’m wearing with how much you were sta—”

“All right, all right.” Austin looked out toward the creek. “I wouldn’t say all that.” He brought his gaze back to me. “I do like your Calvins, though.”

I playfully slapped his chest. “I knew it, perv.” Instead of bringing my hand back between my lap, I let it fall, palm down on Austin’s thigh. It was a stronger moment of connection than anything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and it practically blew me back over the bench.

He didn’t move his leg away, so I let my hand stay there. His smile didn’t disappear either.

“I kissed you first,” Austin said, his tone shifting into dreamy. “It was the first time I ever kissed another guy, and it was awkward as fuck. And perfect, too. We didn’t stop. For the next few months, we’d sneak off and make out every chance we could. We were addicted to each other’s lips.”

Were. Past tense.

And in a past I had zero access to. No matter how hard I tried, how big of a headache I gave myself, I felt like I’d never remember the kisses Austin was talking about. It didn’t matter how good a storyteller Austin was, I’d never feel those moments again, even though they all happened to me.

I sat up on the bench, pinning my shoulders to the wooden slats behind me. “You know, I thought I had already found my peace with the time I lost. I worked on feeling grateful I still had time at all, and that my childhood memories still stayed whole. It took time, about two years’ worth of it, but I found myself accepting everything that happened.” I winced, as if feeling a physical pain and not just a mental strain. I moved my hand back to my lap. “Now I’m more pissed than ever. I want to remember so fucking bad, Austin. So bad.”

Austin gave me a look that was equal parts pity and compassion. I’d seen the look before, from nurses and friends and my parents, but there was something else in Austin’s look that stood out. There was a kind of hope in the way his lips curled into a smile and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“I’ll write a book if you need me to about all our memories. But you’ll remember. I know you will.” Austin sounded so confident. I couldn’t tell him about all the sleepless nights I spent with my laptop screen lighting up my bedroom, a dozen different articles and forums open, all of them basically saying the same thing: the chances of my memory coming back were slim to none.

I nod instead, trying to siphon off some of that hope. “I hope so.” My gaze locked on Austin’s, and something else unlocked inside me. A treasure chest in between my ribs, opening and spreading its warmth through my bones.

Maybe I couldn’t remember anything that happened between us, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make new memories.

Before I could second-guess myself, I pushed in and found my lips against Austin’s, and the world blossomed all around me. A blast of euphoria moved through me like the fallout from a nuclear bomb. Our lips felt natural together, perfect, made for each other. My body started to melt, the hard ridges and rises of my muscles turning into soft dough. Both of us opened our lips in sync, and our tongues moved together in a dance that neither of us would ever forget, amnesia or not.

And then, in the same way it had started, it ended.

Austin pulled back. His eyes were wide, his lips wet. He looked happy and upset and as euphoric as me.

But still, he looked upset. Why? “Is everything all right?” I asked, already feeling regret for moving in too fast.

Then again, isn’t this years in the making?.

Austin touched his lips with his thumb. It was his turn to apologize. “I’m sorry.” It took me by surprise, but before I could respond, Austin was already on his feet.

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