“Do you want to know what it was like between us?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I groan. “Should I start with how wet you were every time I touched you? Or maybe how you begged me that first night?”

“I didn’t.”

“Have you been telling yourself some wicked rocker seduced you? That I tricked you into my bed? Sorry. You asked for the truth. You begged. Right there outside the club, you begged me until I ripped your panties off and you were too busy biting my neck to talk anymore. Is that what you’re hoping to remember? How you wanted me so badly you let me finger you out in the open, against that building where anyone could have seen?” I just want her to remember. I need her to remember it all and then look me in the eye and tell me she’s choosing him.

She lifts her hands to my chest, but right when I think she’s going to push me away, she curls her hands into my shirt, and I groan again because my control is hanging by a thread and threatening to snap.

I can’t help myself and I put my mouth to her earlobe, nip at it with my teeth in the way I know makes her crazy. The crack of thunder overhead reminds me of our first night together, the way the sky opened up outside the club and we got soaked. Then, later, when I peeled those wet clothes off her and warmed her with my hands and mouth.

“You might have forgotten me,” I whisper now, “but you still like dirty talk, don’t you? And maybe if I made you come now, you’d still scream my name. Because you always screamed my name, Hanna. Never his.”

She gasps. “You are horrible.”

“What are you really upset about? That you wanted me? Or that even as you stand here wearing his ring, you’re secretly hoping I’ll tell you about it. Secretly wishing you could remember all the details.”

“I don’t.” She shoves me back then, and I’m grateful because I was seconds away from taking her mouth like I’m so desperate to. “Tell me why I did it,” she says. “I need to understand.”

Looking away, I fight to steady my breathing. What the f**k did I think I was doing? “I made you a promise,” I say carefully. I’m reminding myself more than telling her. “I promised that when you made your decision, I would respect it. That if you took his ring, I wouldn’t try to change your mind.”

A promise I all but broke just now. And as much as I want her—need her—more than she’ll ever know, I could never forgive myself if I stole the future she chose.

“I always knew you deserved better than me,” I say, still not looking at her. “I hope he’s worthy of you. I sure as f**k wasn’t.”

Only when my breathing is steady and I think I have the strength to touch her without losing my mind do I turn. I take her hands, meaning to retrieve my cell phone, and for three painful beats of my heart, my gaze snags on her lips and I indulge in the fantasy of one last kiss. She’d let me. I can see it in her eyes. She feels something for me, even without her memories. I want to tell myself that means something. If we have a connection without her remembering anything about me, doesn’t that have to?

But nothing changes the fact that she chose him.

I take my phone and walk away into the night. When the skies open and rain pours down, I welcome the deluge and wallow in the memories it brings.

I’m sitting in the dark on Asher’s front porch soaking f**king wet when Asher finds me.

“I’m sorry I bailed on the rest of the party.” I offer him the joint burning in my hand, and he sneers at me.

“You’re f**king kidding me, right?” he asks.

“Sorry.” I snuff it out and slide the rest of the joint into my pocket. It wasn’t doing shit for me anyway. Nothing can erase Hanna from my mind. “Didn’t mean to piss off the straight-edger.”

“This isn’t about the pot and you know it.”

I lift my gaze to his. “What’s it about, then?”

“What’s between you and Hanna?”

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“I saw the way you looked at her tonight, and you’re a terrible f**king liar.”

“Better than an accomplished one, I guess,” I say, parroting Hanna’s words from the night we met.

“What are you doing?” Asher presses.

“I’m not doing shit. She chose him.” I release a humorless chuckle. “And now, conveniently, she can’t even remember me.”

“Please tell me you haven’t been f**king around with Hanna. I told you she has a boyfriend.”

Yeah, he told me that the night we met, but it wasn’t true. But that’s Hanna’s secret to share, not mine. “I believe he’s now her fiancé.”

“He’s a good guy, you know,” Asher says.

“That’s what everyone seems to think.”

Asher turns his back to me and looks up at the starless sky. The rain has stopped, but the clouds loom overhead, dark and ominous. “Did you know an anonymous investor set Hanna up with the bakery?”

“Yeah.”

“It was Max. That’s the kind of guy we’re talking about here. The kind of guy who would sell his house and live in a shit apartment to give the woman he loves her dream. The kind of guy who would do it without getting any of the credit or the glory.”

“Then how do you know?” I ask.

“I know people.” Asher shrugs then turns back to me. “I’m not trying to be an ass, but I care about Hanna, and I want what’s best for her.”