Page 86 of It's a Date (Again)

“Okay. Let me walk you out.”

He nods but doesn’t make eye contact with me. I think he’s mad, and I don’t know why.

Out on the porch, I thank Tyler for coming and tell him I had a good time. He says, “Yeah,” but doesn’t echo my sentiments.

“Are you free this week for a date?” I ask.

He runs a hand over his face, glancing away for a moment. “Is it with you?”

I pull my chin in. “What do you mean?”

Tyler takes a step back and shoves his hands into his pockets, blowing out a gust of air. “When I agreed to do whatever this is, I thought I’d be dating you.”

“You are.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m dating a committee. You have Robbie doing deep dives on us, and Maya’s arranging gatherings so she can size us up. Plus, I spent the whole party fixing things around Debbie’s house rather than spending time with you. It just doesn’t feel like you’re the one making the decision.”

“But I am. They’re helping me figure things out,” I argue.

Can’t he see how difficult and baffling this is for me? I have no memories. It’s like I’m sitting in a classroom 24-7 learning about myself. I don’t get it, though. On our last date, he said he’d be patient, so I don’t understand where this change in attitude came from.

“Robbie’s deep dive.” He shakes his head. “If you wanted to know things about me, why didn’t you just ask?”

“I don’t know ... It’s confusing. Because I don’t know what we’ve talked about and what we haven’t talked about.”

“And I understand that. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to date you again. At least I thought I did. It’s just—” He groans. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

“I’m trying,” I plead.

“I get that, but I guess I didn’t think it would be a difficult decision for you to make. I thought you would know how strong our connection is ... well, was.” He sighs and his gaze veers off toward the street.

“Are you saying you don’t want to date me anymore?”

“No. I don’t know. I just ... I have to go.” Tyler’s mouth forms a hard line. I notice his eyes have a sheen to them, but he turns awayfrom me and jogs down the steps of the porch before I can get a better look. “I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads toward his car.

“Tyler,” I yell, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look back at me.

I instantly feel sick to my stomach.What am I doing?He’s right. I should just know who I love. I should know who my heart beats for. I should know who I have the strongest connection with. This shouldn’t be such a difficult decision to make because I’ve made it before. And if I don’t figure it out soon, I’m not going to have anyone left to love.

CHAPTER16

My eyes sluggishly open. I blink several times, adjusting to the light. There’s a weight on me, something draped over my stomach. I glance down and see that it’s an arm, attached to Robbie. His skin is warm, and it feels like I’m nestled up next to a fireplace, all cozy and safe. His body is pressed against mine like he’s the big spoon, and I’m the little spoon. We didn’t fall asleep like that, so I wonder at what point in the night the pillow wall got completely dismantled. Maybe subconsciously Robbie was trying to comfort me because he knew I was upset. I played it off like I was fine, but he knew. I think he assumed it was because of Shawn bowing out. But it wasn’t. It was what Tyler had said. I grab my phone and quickly check my messages. He still hasn’t texted me.

Sitting up, I cautiously lift Robbie’s arm, sliding it off me. He doesn’t move when I slip out of bed. He just lies there, almost purring as he sleeps.

In the kitchen, I brew a pot of coffee. It’s the first one I’ve made post-amnesia—but somehow I remember how to do it. Grind the beans. Fill the reservoir with water. Add a filter with the ground coffee. And turn it on. My gaze bounces to the fridge and then to the stove. I wonder what else I can do. The house is quiet, so I know Robbie’s still asleep. Perhaps I’ll surprise him with a breakfast sandwich. Something simple like egg, cheese, and bacon. He’s been doing so much for me, and I think it’d be nice to try to do something for him.

I race around the kitchen, collecting the ingredients. I click on the burner and drop four slices of bacon into the pan, then slice two English muffins and pop them into the toaster. The scent of the nutty coffee fills the room, and I inhale it.

As I wait for the bacon to buckle and curl in the frying pan, my mind goes back to yesterday. I’ve made a mess of everything. Maybe I should have listened to Robbie and waited until my memories came back before I started dating again. I clearly wasn’t ready, and I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to go through with all this. Well, I do. I figured my heart would just know. That’s its job. To love and to pump blood. That’s it. I glance down at my ticker and scowl at it for only doing half its job.

My phone buzzes against the counter, and the screen lights up. It’s a good-morning text from Nash. He left shortly after Tyler did, leaving me with a kiss on the cheek and plans for another date. He didn’t seem upset like Tyler did, so maybe I’m doing this whole dating with amnesia thing half right. But I really need to figure out who I was running to before the accident, and I need to do it soon. Before it’s too late ... if it’s not already.

I scroll to the last message Tyler sent me. It was from yesterday morning. He said he missed me. I said I missed him too. But nothing since then. I consider texting him, a casual and light message, likegood morningorhow are you. But he said he’d text me, and he made that clear. I think he needs space, time to mull it all over. I knew this would be hard on me, but I didn’t consider that it would also be hard on the guys. I pour myself a cup of coffee and wince. It’s still too hot to drink.

Three loud beeps screech throughout the house. My shoulders jump and the mug of coffee slips from my hand, crashing onto the hardwood floor. Shoot! Smoke pools above the burning bacon, and I rush to the stove, turning off the burner.

“Peyton!” Robbie yells. His footsteps pad down the hallway, and he suddenly appears, dressed in only a pair of pajama pants. His panickedeyes zoom to me, the stove, and the smoke alarm above the kitchen table that’s raging with three long, loud beeps over and over. He pulls open the balcony doors and then grabs a throw blanket from the couch, waving it near the alarm. The smoke dissipates as he fans it toward the open door. I’m just standing here, leaning up against the counter, frozen. Finally, the alarm shuts off. He catches his breath and tosses the blanket back on the couch.

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