My memories returned in manageable chunks, giving me time to incorporate what I’d lost into the virtual timeline in my head. But when Aaron told me about our love triangle with Jessie, I stared at them both in astonishment.

“Look, if the idea makes you uncomfortable,” Jessie said quickly, “we can pretend our menage-a-trois never happened.”

“All of them?” Aaron asked.

“Call it a drunken mistake, or something.” He half-smiled, and I could see he was sacrificing his involvement in order to keep me happy.

“I . . . let me think about it, okay?”

He nodded. “Sure. Take all the time you want. I appreciate it’s a shock.”

I smiled back at him. “It’s not a complete shock. There’s a beautiful kind of logic in there when you think about it.”

“All the same. Think it over. We don’t have to go back to those days if you’d prefer not to.”

“You’re so sweet.” I reached over and squeezed Jessie’s hand. “Isn’t he sweet?” I asked Aaron.

“He’s my brother. I’ve known him forever. Sweet isn’t the first word that comes to mind.”

“You love me, really,” Jessie prompted.

“Dude!” Aaron groaned.

“Sorry. I know you’re too cool to admit it’s true.”

“Drop it,” Aaron growled.

“I think you’re both sweet,” I decided.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew how many girlfriends he’s stolen from me,” Aaron muttered.

“Hey! We shared them, remember? Fifty-fifty.”

“Even me, by the sound of it.”

Jessie shrugged. “No girl could ever choose between us . . . because we’re so sweet.”

No GIRL? “Terry!” I sat up so quickly, my seatbelt locked.

“And Monica,” Aaron added, “her girlfriend.”

“Right. Terry and Monica are an item.” Something akin to jealousy stirred inside me, followed by guilt. A second later, their smiling faces drifted through my mind—along with the memory of a lingering kiss. My cheeks warmed. But the trickle of memories continued, and images of Terry in a hospital bed drifted past, and then I remembered Monica snuggled against me, worried, but happy I was there to comfort her.

“I remember them,” I said softly, but Aaron missed the soft comment. I remember spending the night with Monica, with Monnie. I chewed my lower lip as I rummaged through the emerging memories. But we didn’t . . . did we? No, we kissed, but that was all. I think. 

When Aaron stopped the car and went into the restaurant to order takeout, I replayed my fragmented memories over and over, searching for something I’d missed, some small detail. Mostly, I was fixated on the idea that I’d spent the night in bed with Terry’s girlfriend. The idea both alarmed and excited me. If Terry found out I’d slept with them both, she’d . . .

“I slept with both of them?” I pressed both hands to my mouth, thankful I hadn’t been overheard. If Aaron knew, he’d be horrified.

Have you ever seen a man’s face light up when you tell him you slept with another woman? Monica’s words echoed inside my head, and I half-smiled. Okay, maybe Aaron wouldn’t hate the idea, but I wasn’t ready to share with him just yet.

There were bigger things to consider.