Page 23 of It's a Date (Again)

I fold my arms across my chest. “I was being nice by letting you get some rest.”

“Why didn’t you leave a note?”

“I didn’t realize I had to.”

“You didn’t have to, necessarily.” Robbie furrows his brow. “It just would have been nice. I was really worried about you, especially with everything that—”

I cut him off. “Well, I’m fine,” I say, sipping the rest of my coffee.

There’s silence. He eats his muffin while I stare at him, waiting for him to tell me about the pact before I have to ask about it.

I cock my head. “So, you’re just not going to tell me about the pact?”

He shoves another piece of muffin in his mouth. “Pact?”

“Our marriage or relationship or whatever it is pact.”

Robbie chews quickly, swallows, and then lets out a laugh. “That’s what all this attitude is for?”

I nod.

“Wait, that’s what Debbie was talking about? A pact?” He says the wordpactlike it’s make-believe, a unicorn of some sort.

“Yep. Apparently, I brought it up to her a week ago because it’s almost time for us to settle it.”

He stifles another laugh. “Why’d you bring it up?”

“I don’t know, Robbie. I don’t remember anything.”

He blows out a big breath. “I know that. Sorry. I meant, like, why is this a big deal? It was just some silly pact we made in college. We’re not following through on it.”

“That’s exactly what I thought until you told me not to date any of those guys that showed up in my hospital room. You told me to wait until my memories come back. You told me I should focus on healing? Why?”

“Because I want you to get better.”

I raise a brow of suspicion. “Or you want to run out the clock on our pact, saboteur.” I grab my empty cup and stand from my seat. Turning on my foot, I storm off down the sidewalk.

“Peyton, wait. It’s not like that,” he calls out.

I glance over my shoulder and watch him pop the last two bites of my muffin into his mouth. He just can’t help himself. Robbie starts off toward me, throwing the trash into a garbage can on the way. I quicken my pace. I know I’m probably overreacting, but he didn’t tell me about the pact, and he should have since I don’t have any memories. Something like,Hey, Peyton, you know how you have three boyfriends? Well, you and I agreed to be together if we weren’t in a serious relationship by thirty-two, which is in two weeks, so you better get to dating.That would have sufficed. I would have been like,Cool, let me add that to the list. BUT HE DIDN’T.

“Peyton!”

I ignore him and keep marching forward. At the intersection, I turn right.

“Where are you going?” he yells.

“Home.”

“That’s the wrong way.”

I stop abruptly and stomp my foot. I can’t even make a quick dramatic exit. Exhaling an angry breath, I turn back and walk toward him begrudgingly.

“Please, can we talk?” he pleads.

“Sure. Talk.” I stop right in front of him and throw a hand on my hip. I’m giving a lot of attitude for a person with no memories, and I have no idea where it’s coming from.

“I forgot about the pact,” he says, lowering his chin.

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