“You mean Perry?”
“Right.”
“Hey, bro. Glad you could make it. I hope it’s okay I invited Perry,” Devin says to Marcus.
“Of course.” His smile tightens from behind the row of taps. “Good to see you, Perry. We’ve missed you at softball lately.”
“I’ve been busy. What is she doing here?” He jerks his thumb in my direction.
I lift my chin. “Marcus invited me.”
“We went to high school together,” Marcus says. “Cass is one of my tenants.”
“You might want to rethink that,” Perry mutters under his breath. Edging between me and Devin, he uses his body as a shield as though I might launch myself at his brother like a rabid cat. “Dev, this is her, the woman I told you about. The one who came into the shop earlier and demanded to see you.” His back is to me and his voice is low, but I don’t miss his words. Or the way Devin’s expression immediately shutters.
“Wait, let me explain.” I attempt to talk over Perry’s shoulder, but he shifts to block me.
Sliding off his barstool, Devin backs away with his hands raised. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Marcus, but I’m—”
I put my long-dormant high school basketball skills to use and step resolutely around Perry, blocking him out. “Look, I know this might sound weird, but I—I think we’ve met before. In fact, I think we know each other pretty well.”
Devin narrows his eyes. “I already told you. We’ve never met.”
“I know, I know. But please, just hear me out. I realize this is strange, but there’s something going on I can’t explain, and it has to do with you.”
“How so?”
“Well… ahh…” How should I even start?
“She woke up from a coma ten months ago and swore she knew you,” Brie blurts. I glare at her. “What? Better to get it out in the open now,” she adds with an apologetic shrug. That’s Brie for you—about as subtle as a Mack truck.
Perry’s jaw goes slack.
“You were in a coma?” The way Devin’s eyebrows pinch as he looks me over for signs of obvious damage has my skin itching. I can’t stand this sort of reaction—pity mixed with a dose of wariness. Like my head is a melon being eyed for soft spots.
“I was only in a coma for a few days. When I woke up, I had all these memories I never had before, and you were in them. Maybe not you, you. More like the idea of you? That’s why I had such a strong reaction to seeing you in Blooms & Baubles today.”
“You fainted,” says Perry.
“Thank you, I’m aware.” My voice is stiffer than cardboard.
Devin tilts his head. “So it might not have been me you remembered?”
“If not, it’s one hell of a coincidence. I mean, you look exactly like how I remembered you. I even knew your pinkie would be crooked—I remember you telling me you broke it falling off a trampoline when you were eight.”
Devin rubs his hand, the one with the crooked pinkie, and slowly tilts his head. “What else do you think you know about me?”
“Well, um…” I shift my weight. “I know your favorite food is pizza rolls, but you don’t like real pizza because it’s too greasy. You played soccer in high school. Your favorite color is red—”
“As if you couldn’t have learned all that from the Internet.” Perry snorts.
“Wait, so I’m right? What I know about you is true?”
Perry shoots me a withering glare before grabbing Devin by the shoulder. “Come on, Dev. Remember what you told me? To warn you if I sense a stage-five clinger headed your way? Well, warning, warning, arooo-ga. She’s a stalker. Let’s go.”
Devin stares hard at his brother and some unspoken understanding passes between them. After a long moment, he pulls out his wallet and tosses a ten-dollar bill onto the bar. They turn toward the door.
My heartbeat ticks faster. No, he can’t leave. Not until I have answers. “Wait,” I shout, and they pause. “I’m fully aware how bonkers this sounds, but I swear I’m not a stalker. Please, just give me a chance. I’ve been living with you in my head for almost a year, and until today I thought I imagined you. But here you are—you’re a real person, and I have no idea how or why I know things about you, but I do. Please, help me figure out why.”
Devin assesses me, lips pursued. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? For all I know, you saw me out at a bar and cooked up this story in some lame attempt to get close to me.”