Page 49 of Help Me Remember
“Did you hear us?”
“I stopped listening,” I confess.
Emmett chuckles. “You’re the same as ever. A brat.”
I stick my tongue out.
“Anyway,” Addison says, “I don’t know anything, but Spencer, maybe you can track down where the ring was purchased. You’ll have to keep Brielle out of it if you do find it. Sorry, Brie.”
I shrug. At this point, I didn’t have any hopes they would tell me anyway. “I mean, it’s great that you might have some connection to a guy I may or may not be engaged to who might also know what happened to my brother and me. What girl doesn’t want to think she was engaged to someone who killed her brother and tried to kill her. It’s like, the best fantasy ever.”
Spencer nudges me. “Relax, it could be nothing, but we’re going to make sure. Right now, there isn’t any reason to think the two events are related.”
“Yup.”
There is a long, almost uncomfortable stretch of time before he asks, “Are you still up for today? If so, I figured we’d take a ride.”
“I had plans to wallow, but sure. We’ll go, and I’ll continue to remember nothing. It’ll be fun.”
Spencer doesn’t give me the reaction I was pushing for. Instead, his smile is bright. “Good.”
I sigh and walk over to Addy. “I’ll be there in the morning to say goodbye.”
“I’ll make sure I don’t leave until then.”
We give each other a hug, and Emmett and Addison leave. I grab my purse and walk toward the door. “You ready?”
“To spend the day with you? Absolutely.”
Glad someone is.
We ride out to the beach, which is strange because I don’t remember this being significant in my life. Instead of walking down onto the sand, we move to stand in front of his car and watch the waves. “Why are we here?”
He shrugs. “You liked the beach when we were kids.”
I laugh. “I liked when you, Emmett, and Holden would take your shirts off. That’s what I liked.”
Spencer’s hands move to the hem of his shirt, and before I can say anything, it’s off and tossed through his open window. “There. What about now?”
Focusing on his face is a lost cause. There’s no way I can stand here and not take in the man before me. He’s tall, blocking out the sun behind him, and my eyes travel from his beautiful face to his magnificent chest. The deep lines etched across his perfect skin provide a map down to his stomach where six boxes of hardness lie. Spencer has aged so freaking well. My fingertips itch to touch him and outline every rise and fall on his lean, hard body.
Oh, how much I want that. I always have.
I may have told him it was all of them, but I only ever saw him.
I would sit on the blanket, my lower lip between my teeth as I stared.
I clear my throat, pushing away the desire pooling in my core. “Just like old times,” I say, hoping I sounded indifferent.
From the grin that forms, I failed. “Good. So, let’s head down there and talk.”
Spencer reaches back into the window, and I silently mutter a prayer.
Please put your shirt back on.
He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs his stupid notebook and a bag.
“What’s in there?”
