My ears perked up at “art gallery”—I haven’t been to one in ages—but “pinball” has me intrigued. “I’ve played a time or two.”
“I’ve got the perfect place. It’s not far. Only a few blocks away.”
I grin. “You’re on.”
His phone trills from his pocket. “One sec.” His eyes flick across the screen and he taps out what I assume is a text before stashing his cell away. “Shall we?” He proffers his elbow and I slip my fingers around the corded muscles of his forearm. His delicious scent fills my nose, and I inhale deeply, reveling in the solid presence at my side.
We stroll at a slow, meandering pace, taking in the sights, smells, and sounds of West Twenty-Fifth Street, the beating heart of Ohio City. We watch as people dip into bars, dine on patios, and laugh as they meander down the street. The scent of hops and pizza floats on the balmy air, and we chat about our favorite Cleveland restaurants. The next block up, we pause to peer through a store window, admiring the diverse knickknacks and wares for sale.
I catch our reflection in the window and my neck tingles. A vision of us walking arm in arm down a different, less crowded, city street flashes in my mind before it dissipates like the mist rising from the sidewalk.
Why can’t the life in my memories be my real life? I’ve busted my ass for as long as I can remember. I didn’t party in college so I could land a scholarship to law school. Then three years of nose-to-the-grindstone studying while constantly striving to live up to my mother’s expectations and become the self-sufficient, successful woman she wants me to be. Maybe Devin showing up is karma… the universe throwing me a bone for once.
Maybe it’s too much to hope for. But maybe hoping is everything.
“You’re frowning.” Devin’s warm breath tickles my ear and I jolt.
My fingers flex automatically, tightening around his forearm. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
I inhale deeply. “What if…？” I shake my head. “Never mind.”
“What if you’re psychic?” he ventures.
I let out a bark of laughter. “You think I’m psychic?”
“It’d be one way to explain what’s going on. I’m thinking of a number between zero and one hundred.”
“No way.”
“Come on, what number am I thinking of?”
“Seventy-three?”
“Close. Twelve.”
I giggle.
“Okay, maybe you’re not psychic. But what if you have superpowers?”
I roll my eyes. “I do not have superpowers.”
“No, hear me out. What if you can manifest your deepest desires?”
“That’s ludicrous. And assuming a lot. Who says you’re my deepest desire?”
“Hey, you’re the one who woke up remembering me. Come on, just try it.”
“Fine.” Slipping my arm out of his, I move to the edge of the sidewalk. I roll my neck and shimmy my shoulders. “Okay, now what?”
“What is it you most desire? Picture it in your mind.”
Grinning, I close my eyes and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Cheesecake.” I lift my palms expectantly. After three heartbeats, I peel open one eye. “Did it work?”
“You tell me.”
Behind him, a streetlight illuminates a crisp, black-and-white sign: Pullman’s Bakery.
I smile so wide my cheeks ache. “No way.”
“Way.” Gathering my hand, he tugs me to the corner, and we peer through the window. Inside, upturned chairs crown small, circular tables, and the lights are off.
“Closed.” I sigh dramatically. “It looks like I can’t make my desires come to life after all.”
I only realize Devin’s still holding my hand when he sweeps his thumb along my knuckles and the sensation burrows straight into my belly. “We’ll see,” he murmurs.
We continue, hand in hand. My skin tingles against his and my head feels curiously light, like I might float away on a dream. We take a right at the next corner down a less crowded side street.
“So… any other ideas for how we can explain what’s going on here?” I ask.
He stops walking. So do I. Behind him, neon lettering in the window of a low brick building proclaims Kinetic Kanteen Pinball Parlor. This must be the place. Before I can make a move for the door, he gathers my other hand and squeezes. My heart stutter-steps when he dips his chin to peer into my face.
“What if your memories are a sign that we were supposed to meet? That fate somehow brought us together?” he asks softly.