“You might have mentioned it a time or two.”
Setting me on my feet, he drops onto one knee. “Well, I’ve got a question of my own.”
My eyes widen when he takes a black box from his pocket and opens it, revealing a sparkling diamond set in white gold and surrounded by a ring of smaller diamonds.
“Mellie Elizabeth Kensington,” he says reverently. “Will you marry me?”
I jolt awake and shoot into a sitting position, ignoring the throbbing in my head. The details of my dream remain lucid in my mind, and I search the room for Lyric, desperate to lay eyes on him.
He’s sitting in a chair, strumming his guitar and singing softly.
“I know that song,” I blurt, and he stops to stare at me. “You distract me with your melodies.”
“I’m still singing, it’s echoing in my head for you,” he sings back.
“‘All Of Me’ by John Legend,” I say.
His grin widens. “I sang that to you the night I proposed.”
I remember.
“You did?” I ask instead of admitting that the memory returned.
His face falls, and he nods. “Yeah, I did. You told me it was just the right amount of cheesy.”
Shit, I remember!
As if it’s playing out on a giant drive-in movie screen, flashes of memories fly through my mind from the moment Lyric punched Johnny Millhouse in the seventh grade to my conversation with Rowdy after he picked me up from the hotel to get me to my wedding.
I remember everything.
Every single detail that was lost to me becomes crystal clear. Excitement wars with fear as I stare at the man I love, the biker who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.
I know I should tell him that I remember, but I keep it to myself because what if the memories are only temporary? What if this is just a glitch, and my brain is still broken? The last thing I want to do is get his hopes up.
Taking a deep breath, I ignore the stabbing pain in my ribs that the action causes. “I’m sorry.”
Lyric sets his guitar next to the chair, gets to his feet, and walks closer to the bed. “For what?”
“Fighting with Peach.”
He throws his head back and barks out a laugh. “Oh, baby, the only thing I’m mad about is that I missed it. Well, and that she hurt you at all.”
I’m unable to stop my grin. “Please tell me she looked as bad as I feel.”
“Worse,” he counters, pushing hair behind my ear. “How’s the head?”
“Hurts, but I think I’ll be okay.” My eyes shift to the door. “I’m surprised Sawbone isn’t in here checking on me.”
“Do you need him?” Lyric asks, his tone filled with concern.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head.
What I don’t say is that I need to talk to Sawbone about my returning memories. Maybe he can offer insight as to why they came back. Did Peach’s blows to my head jar something? Did the dream trigger it? Why can I remember now?
It doesn’t matter why.
But it does because if this is temporary, I need to know.
