Page 11 of It's a Date (Again)

I glance over at them and then back at Maya. “Did I tell you which one?”

She shakes her head.

Shit! Of course I’d lose my memory right after figuring out who I loved.Perfect timing.And why was I dating so many guys? Did I have issues with commitment or something? Do I like playing the field? Do they know about each other? Oh God, I hope so.

“What do I do?” I whisper to Maya.

“You could just wait until you remember.”

“But what if my memory never comes back?”

“Right.” She taps her finger against her chin, contemplating. “You could date them ... again?” Maya grins. “Could be fun.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“How can I date them if I don’t even know who I am?”

I don’t think Maya realizes how little I know or how confused I am. And I mean without this new knowledge of having three boyfriends.

Maya leans down and speaks soft and fast. “I know practically everything about you, except who you love. But everything else, I know it. I’ll help you navigate, and we’ll tag team this whole re-dating thing. I’ll be like your talent manager, but I’ll set up dates rather than gigs.” She grins excitedly.

I let out a sigh. This doesn’t seem like a good idea, but if I was running to one of them before the accident to express my love, I feel like I owe it to myself to figure out who it is. Maya’s eyes are pleading. I remember what the doctor said. He said memories tend to come back faster when you surround yourself with the people you love. So maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.

“Fine,” I say.

She nearly squeals but keeps her cool composure. “All right, suitors,” Maya says, pulling a notebook and pen from her bag. She stands and addresses the room. “I’m Peyton’s best friend, Maya. Like I said, she can’t remember anything, so I’m going to need each of you to reintroduce yourselves. Name, occupation, how long you’ve been seeing Peyton, and bank account balance.”

“Maya!”

“What?” She looks to me.

“I don’t need to know their bank account balance.”

The guys chuckle.

“Fine, no bank account info.” She holds her pen up, ready to write, and points it at the man standing closest to us, the one holding a vase of red roses.

He takes a step forward and sets them down on the table next to my bed. “These are for you,” he says, flashing his teeth.

I thank him.

He’s tall with broad shoulders and thick biceps. He sports long brown hair wrapped up in a messy bun. Surprisingly, he pulls it off well. Most men can’t. I think it’s the strong jaw paired with a neat beard and those intense green eyes that brings the whole look together. The manstanding before me has a rustic look to him too, donning ripped blue jeans (not intentionally, like they were torn from hard labor), work boots, and a flannel button-up.

“I’m Tyler Davis,” he says with a nod.

I feel my cheeks warm, so I know I’m blushing. But I hope he doesn’t notice. I’ll blame it on the head injury. “Nice to re-meet you, Tyler.”

Tyler continues his introduction. “So, we’ve been dating for about six weeks. I recently asked if we could be exclusive, but you said you wanted to take it slow, which I respect and understand, given some of the things you confided in me. We get along really well, and I think we’re great together.” He rocks back on his heels and slips his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

I really like him. Maybe this is the guy I love. He said I was vulnerable with him. I’m not sure what I divulged, but it sounds deep, so we must have a strong connection. I’m not sure why pre-amnesia me said no to being his girlfriend. My eyes scan the other men.Yum.That’s probably why. Clearly, I was conflicted.

“Occupation?” Maya pauses her note-taking and glances up at Tyler.

“Oh yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m a contractor.”

“Construction?” Maya asks.

I knew he worked with his hands.

Tyler nods. “Yeah. I’m also working on starting my own construction business.”

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