"Are you hearing yourself? Would you have believed me, if I was like, 'Hey, I know you don't remember me, but you know, before you came here, we shagged our brains out one night.'"
He opened his mouth to speak, and I could see it, the determination on his face that he would have believed me. But then his shoulders sagged. "No, I probably wouldn't have. I would have made a lewd joke about you giving me a refresher."
"Exactly. And then you probably would have said something to Gabe or someone else. And then instead of getting your time served at Rogues Division, your family would have found another creative way to keep you in line."
He frowned at that. “Fuck."
“Yes, exactly. Fuck."
He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, I can't—" He started to pace. "Walk me through it. What happened?"
I sighed and returned to the couch and my wine, not bothering to look at him. “It was my birthday. Tabs dragged me out, despite the fact that I didn't want to go. I thought we'd come here and watch movies, have a low key night in. In case you haven't figured it out, I’m not really the club and party type."
“Yeah, I guess not. I've seen you in action."
“I'm just socially awkward. Part of me thought that being a field agent would make me somehow cooler. As if I could put on a suit of armor, I guess. My own Sasha Fierce suit."
He cocked his head. "Sasha Fierce?"
I gawked and blinked at him. "Beyoncé?"
He shrugged. “I mean, I like her songs, but who the fuck is Sasha Fierce?"
I rolled my eyes. "Never mind. It would take far too long to explain it to you. Anyway, we went out, and there was this bloke. We were dancing. He was getting handsy, so I sent him packing. Then I noticed you watching me."
“Yeah, that sounds like me. You're stunning, but then you know that."
He set an arm on the couch and watched me intently as I talked. “You came over and we danced."
His brow furrowed. "The touching in the kitchen, it was familiar."
"That's how I touched you on the dance floor."
He let out a long breath. “I have to tell you, I’m relieved to know I’m not fucking losing my mind."
“I'm sorry you thought that."
“Go on."
"I had to do a check-in call with Gabe, and while I was out there, the bloke from earlier turned up in the alley, thinking I owed him something because I’d been rude to him on the dance floor."
Lock cursed under his breath. "What the fuck?"
“It's fine. I handled him easily, but he did pull a knife." I lifted my chin and showed him the fading scar on my neck. "Anyway, you came out to find me fighting him, and when I put him down, I had to stop you from killing him."
He shook his head. “I remember none of this. I hate that I remember nothing."
“You're not supposed to remember. Then, you picked me up and tossed me over your shoulder and took me home. We were maybe a few blocks from your place."
“Yeah, my place is not far from there."
“I know."
His teeth worked over his bottom lip then. "At the training simulation, you said, ‘This is your flat,’ and I wondered how you could possibly know."
“Yeah. I was disoriented. I don't know why they chose that, but I think I do now. Very likely, they simulated your bag and tag.”
“Fucking hell. I remember feeling like I knew exactly where they were going to be."