Even so, she examined the picture, intrigued. So this is what she’d done. This is what she’d looked like doing it.
“You helped save twenty-seven kids that day. They were all trapped in a science lab at the back of the school, and one little girl wouldn’t come to any of us. She was too frightened. But she came to you. It was a long, hard day, but a good one. I could see it all in your face, in your posture. How much heart you have. How much you had to hold back to keep a clear head and help them.”
Erin swallowed hard, her eyes burning. She put the pictures down, overcome with emotion. If this was everything she’d been, what she’d had—she’d also lost all of it. The pain of it was unbelievable.
“You always liked this,” Bo said softly.
He held up a strange turtle with a bobble head that had “I ‘Heart’ the Bahamas” on its back.
“From the one actual vacation we took together. Some more pictures from the island in there. A few other silly things. A book you bought me for my birthday and a shirt you used to sleep in at my place.”
Erin wanted to look, but she also didn’t want to. It was almost too much. It had been easier not knowing. Maybe that was a warning—it was a mistake to try to resurrect the past.
“Are you okay?” Bo asked.
She took a breath. “Yes. Sorry. This is a lot. More than I thought it would be.”
She picked up the pictures again, sorting through them. The usual array of happy couple photos, always smiling, sometimes romantic and sweet.
It seemed impossible that this couple would have broken up. But they had, apparently.
Bo was quiet as she continued to look, only filling in a detail now and then. Erin kept returning to one picture in particular, of Bo, standing in a room where he stared at the camera very intently. His expression was one of raw hunger, undisguised lust.
“This... I can almost... This is your house. I remember a... I don’t know. I can almost see it, but not. Something hanging on the wall behind you, like you are blocking it in the picture?”
She looked at him, expectant.
“There’s a small ceramic piece I inherited from my grandmother that you always liked. It was old, antique. From France, I think. You commented on it the first time you came over. That it looked like the garden your father kept when you were a kid.”
Erin’s eyes widened. “Yes! Yes, it was...oval? And hand-painted?”
Bo nodded, the corner of his gorgeous mouth pulling a slight smile at her excitement. Any doubts or fears that Erin had were washed away in the new memory. She put the pictures down, laughing with glee at yet another part of her past given back to her, and she lunged at Bo, throwing her arms around him.
“Thank you for doing this. For bringing these things over. This is wonderful.”
He hugged her back lightly as she squeezed him in her arms, and then realized, as the moment ebbed, that she was almost sprawled completely across him, pressing him back into the cushions.
Her heart raced even faster as she pulled back, but didn’t move, looking down into his face.
She dipped down before she could change her mind, kissing him as she wrapped her arms around him again.
He tasted so good. His arms lay at his sides as he let her explore his mouth, let her kiss him. Erin parted his lips, tasted him, went deeper to find more.
This was absolutely the right thing to do.
Angling her body so that she could press her front to his, she found him hard already and sighed into his mouth.
“This is so good, Bo. How did we ever let this go?”
It was the wrong thing to say.
He stilled beneath her, drawing back to look at her with passion but also...caution. Lifting off him, she sat, unsure what to do with her hands so she picked up the turtle again. Bo sat up, too, taking a minute or two to compose himself, as if he were deciding what to say.
“This will work. I know it. For all the weirdness, I want to do this with you. Please tell me you do, too,” she said, hoping against hope that he wasn’t going to back away or change his mind again.
His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, released it, and he offered a nod.
“I do. But we need to be clear on what ‘this’ is. We broke up, Erin, and this isn’t a reconciliation. We’re not starting again. If this works out the way you want it to, you’ll know that. Remember, you wanted out. And at some point, you’ll remember why. So let’s not fool ourselves or pretend it’s anything other than what it is. I care about you or I wouldn’t be here—but what happens between us, it’s not going anywhere. When it’s done, you’ll go on with your life, and so will I. You should know, going in, that I’m leaving in August.”
That surprised her. “Leaving? Where?”
“I’m taking a job with a federal task force with the FBI. No one knows, so please keep it between us for now. I agree with what you said—I think we need closure. It all ended so fast before. I did some research, and the doctor said it was possible that you could remember if—”
“Wait. What doctor? You told someone about this?”
“Dr. Newcomb. I didn’t tell her anything specific. Just in theory, she said being with someone you were in a relationship with could trigger some memories. It might make you feel safe enough to do so. I needed to know that. That this really could help.”
“Okay. I guess I can understand that. If that’s what you needed to be sure, then okay. And I’m happy for you, about the job. Really. You’re right—it’s good to get the ground rules out in the open. And I...I like you, too. As much as I know you. I do feel safe with you. I have since I woke up, which was confusing. I thought it was the uniform,” she said with a self-effacing chuckle.
Bo smiled, too. “She also said that if you want to see her, she’s always happy to make an appointment for you.”
Erin shook her head. “I don’t need a shrink. I need my life back. I need you.” She took a breath, calmed her voice. “I know what we had... Sexually, it had to be good, right?”
“It was mind-bending.”
“Wow, okay, no pressure, right?”
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“It’s something I haven’t talked to anyone about, but Bo, I can’t even remember my first time having sex with someone. I don’t remember sex with anyone. I guess I was a late bloomer. I don’t know what I like or don’t like, and I can’t even remember if I’m any good at it.”
His hand came up, touched her cheek lightly. “You’re insanely good at it. Believe me.”
She smirked. “Well, thanks, except then all of the experience that made me any good is now gone— unless it’s like all the other stuff that the doctors said I didn’t lose—like driving my car or doing yoga. Maybe sex is like that? I guess being with you is the only way I can know. And when it’s over, it’s over. When you have to leave, you go. No matter if my memory is back or not. That’s a good thing. It gives us a...deadline. But you know, if I’m not any good, and if you don’t want to, you have to tell me.”
He touched her chin, smiled slightly. “I don’t think that will be a problem, but I’ll let you know, sure.”
It was a strange conversation, this verbal contract they were hammering out, but it was also raising the anticipation. Bo was watching her. Waiting until she was done. He shifted his position, sitting up straighter.
“Likewise, I want you to be very honest with me about what you want or don’t want. I’ll show you what we liked, what we did...but