Don't Forget About Me: A Second Chance Amnesia Romance

by Eva Luxe

  He gets up to follow me, and then he says, “Since an early start is required for amusement parks, how about Sunday morning? It’ll give us both time to rest up after the big game Friday night.”

  I do my best not to smile. My plan had worked. Now he is chasing me.

  I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to say yes or no now. But I decide to ignore the advice of the voice in my head, and make sure we have something lined up. Otherwise I’d just die of anticipation not knowing when I get to see him again.

  “Sure,” I tell him, too fast, too eagerly.

  I want to kick myself for putting myself out there this far, but I’m not able to reign myself back in for some reason.

  “I’ll see you Sunday morning then.”

  “I’m not sure what you’ll tell your dad you’re doing,” Wesley says.

  I realize he’s still afraid of getting caught. Well, at least that’s not as bad as the alternative: not wanting to go with me at all.

  “You let me figure that part out,” I tell him. “I know how to handle my dad.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you at the stadium,” he says, as if knowing it’s a bad idea to pick me up, like regular guys can do for regular girls when they take them on a date.

  “Be ready to experience the most fun amusement park ever,” I tell him as we leave the pool area.

  “And you be ready to be an amazing tour guide on this super duper secret date you’re taking me on,” he says.

  I can’t say I like the “secret” part, but I definitely like the “date” part. And even the dorky way he says “super duper” turns me on, for some strange reason.

  For someone who comes off as such a bad boy, he certainly has his soft spots.

  As I sit in classes all day long, I wonder how I’ll be able to hold myself together until this weekend arrives. I’m proud of myself for making him wait until Sunday to see me again, but I’m not sure that waiting until then will be an easy task.

  Chapter 21 – Chelsea

  After I get home from class, I eat dinner alone in the dining room. I’d been hoping my dad might want to eat dinner too, as we sometimes do together, but so far he’s kept himself cooped up in his room.

  I’m lonely though, and could use some conversation. I also want to let him know that I have plans on Sunday, since he’d mentioned perhaps taking me on a fishing trip. My birthday is coming up soon, and he likes to do father/ daughter weekends to celebrate.

  I’m not sure what to tell him about who my plans are with, since I don’t like to lie to him. But I’m also not about to ruin what I have going with Wesley. Even if we just meet up in secret for some fun on the side, I’m still excited about being with him.

  And Taylor’s right that my dad hides things from me, too. So I decide to say I’m going to the amusement park, which is true, but leave out who I’m going with. He’ll probably just assume it’s Taylor, since we often went together in the past.

  I approach his bedroom door and knock on it.

  “Umm, come in,” he says, and it isn’t until I’ve opened his door that I realize he sounds embarrassed and in a hurry.

  He’s turning around and shoving something into his pocket. And it really looks like a little blue box. The kind that engagement rings come in.

  “Dad?” I ask, feeling half guilty for barging in on him and half mad at him for clearly not wanting me to know something.

  And I suppose that 100% of me feels scared about whatever is in that box.

  “Hi Sweetie,” he says, taking his hands out of his pocket as if everything is completely normal. “What’s up?”

  “Dad, what are you doing?”

  I didn’t want to ask him, but I can’t help it. I feel like a little kid again. My lower lip is even trembling.

  Stop it, I will myself.

  “Chelsea,” he says, as he sits down on the bed. “You may want to sit down. I have something to tell you.”

  Oh my god.

  This is it. He’s going to tell me that Taylor’s mom is going to be my new step-mom…

  I brace myself.

  “I’m fine standing here, Dad.”

  Just get it over with. Just tell me this crazy thing I never thought would happen. And especially not like this.

  “Well, okay. If you’re sure. I know this is going to sound pretty surreal…”

  “Dad, just tell me.”

  I ball up my fists and scratch at my palms, a nervous habit leftover from when I was younger.

  “Okay. Well.” He chuckles, awkwardly. “Taylor’s mom and I… Miss Hudson…”

  “Sherry?” I ask, nonchalantly.

  Don’t call her Miss Hudson. It makes her sound like an old librarian rather than Taylor’s mom, whom I’ve known ever since I can remember.

  “Yes. Of course. Sherry. We’ve been… seeing each other.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “Oh. I know that, Dad.”

  “Really?”

  He leans back a bit on the bed, as if relieved himself.

  “Yes. Obviously. I know a lot more than you think I know.”

  Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I want to ask him. Taylor’s mom told her. She tells her everything. Unlike you.

  But I don’t say anything. I’m just glad it isn’t worse. Apparently he just got her a gift. I remind myself that it’s not unheard of for a guy to give a woman he’s seeing some jewelry.

  “You’re smarter than I give you credit for,” my dad says, laughing nervously again.

  “I mean, I was kind of surprised when Taylor and I first figured it out,” I admit. “But it’s a rather small city with a small selection of…”

  I pause, not knowing how to say it.

  “Attractive, older single people?” he jumps in, helping me out.

  “Ha. Something like that,” I laugh, grateful that he’s not taking offense. “I should have figured that sooner or later you guys would make your rounds to each other, before you’re both onto the next flavor of the month, or whatever it is that you do, and she does.”

  “She does?” he asks.

  He blinks, as if he’s disappointed to hear this.

  “Dad. Geez.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Guys. They’re so oblivious.

  Even after years of dating a lot of women, my dad still thinks he’s the only one any of them have ever dated.

  “Well, honey, this is a little different, I think, than…”

  “Dad, gross.” All I can picture is my dad making out with Taylor’s mom. It’s not a pretty sight. “Keep your personal life private, will you?”

  “Of course, Sweetheart. I didn’t mean to overshare. I was just…”

  “I mean, I’m glad you told me, and I want to know what’s up,” I clarify, remembering how just a minute ago I was mad that he hadn’t let me in on this news sooner. “But no need to get into specifics.”

  “Okay, honey. I’ll try my best to walk that fine line.”

  I don’t need to know how you think Taylor’s mom is the hottest thing since sliced bread for a whole day or two, until the bread goes stale and you decide it’s time to buy some new fresh bread from the bakery.

  It dawns on me that maybe my dad is the reason I’ve never been too interested in dating guys until I really liked one of them. I don’t see the point in having a merry go round of partners.

  Sure, for my dad it makes sense because he’s grieving the loss of my mom and he needs some company. But for me, I’d rather just wait until I found that special someone.

  Have I found him?

  No, he’s just a secret side piece. That’s all we are to each other, mutually.

  As if reading my mind, Dad asks, “So, what were you coming to tell me?”

  “Oh yeah,” I say, my head still spinning from his revelation. “Just that I’m going to go to the amusement park this weekend, so it’s probably not the best time to go to the lake.”

  “That’s okay,” Dad says, looking as if he’d forgotten the lake was e
ven a possibility. I bet he already made plans with Taylor’s mom. “I mean, it’d be better to go to the lake closer to your birthday, or even on the weekend of your actual birthday, if you’d like. And it’s good that you and Taylor are reliving your youth.”

  “What?” I ask him, confused.

  “Oh, you know. Heading back to your old stomping grounds. The amusement park.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Ha ha.”

  Of course I don’t correct his misconception. And I make a mental note to clue Taylor in on the fact that she’s now officially my alibi.

  He’s looking at me suspiciously now, so I realize I might not have covered it up very well. It dawns on me that normally I wouldn’t have even told him what I was planning to do with Taylor. I’m in college, after all. Not a little girl anymore.

  “I know I don’t have to tell you all my plans,” I quickly tell him. “But it’s just that you had mentioned maybe going to the lake. In general, though, like you, I really should keep my personal life private.”

  “You don’t really have that option, when it comes to some of my rules,” he says, and winks at me. “You’re still living under my roof of course, and I’m funding a portion of your college education, and I don’t need certain things flaunted in my face.”

  He says it in a jesting manner but my mouth still drops open a bit.

  How could he possibly know about…?

  “I know more than you think, too,” he says. “Your old dad is smarter than you give him credit for as well.”

  “Umm. Okay,” I tell him, feeling tongue-tied.

  “I want to trust your judgment, Chelsea. I just want you to be careful.”

  “Okay Dad,” I say, hurriedly backing out of his room before I give myself away. “Nice talk. Thanks a lot.”

  “You too,” he calls out after me.

  How does he expect me to be careful when I’m knowingly walking into a risky situation?

  I don’t know how much he knows— or thinks he knows— or how, but I’m not about to fall into his apparent trap and give up my secrets. Wesley clearly needs to keep his spot on my dad’s team. And I need to let loose and take a walk on the wild side with Wesley, without getting my entire heart caught up in the matter.

  That should be a simple task.

  Anyone could do it.

  Anyone except those cheerleaders at his other school.

  But I’m wiser than they are. I know exactly what I’m getting into, and I want to.

  And there’s no way I’m spilling my guts to my dad and ruining it just when it got started.

  Chapter 22 – Wesley

  “You’re going to love this place,” Chelsea says as we approach the amusement park. “I know… at first you’ll think it’s such a cheesy old amusement park compared to what you’re used to in the big bad city.”

  I gulp, feeling as if my stomach is practically tied in knots. I’m more nervous than I usually get during a big play-off game. But I try not to let it show.

  I’m not about to tell Chelsea that I’ve never been to an amusement park. That I’ve never ridden a roller coaster.

  “And I know it’s not super big or glamorous,” she continues. “But it has an old fashioned charm.”

  My stomach lurches so I don’t say anything. Plus, it’s kind of cute to hear her chatter on about this place, which she obviously likes a lot. It’s touching that she wanted to bring me here, even though it would definitely not be my choice of places to go with her.

  “If you’ve ever wondered what a ‘quaint’ amusement park might look like, this is it,” she rambles on. “And even though it doesn’t have many roller coasters, the few that are here are actually really fun. They don’t have a lot of bells and whistles like all the new rides at all the big parks, but that’s part of what makes them fun. They’re just made well, you know? They stand the test of time.”

  “Uh huh,” I answer, without really answering.

  I don’t want to give away any sense of my fear.

  I’m Wesley Reynolds, fucking fearless football leader. And I intend to stay that way in everyone’s mind, most importantly Chelsea’s.

  But as she points to a looming roller coaster and says, “The Beast! That one’s the best!” I feel like I’m going to hurl.

  Trying to change the subject from the huge free falling roller coaster up ahead, I ask her, “So how do you know so much about this amusement park?”

  “Oh, I’ve come here since I was a kid.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah, at first my mom took me when I was a kid, so that was fun of course. But then I came back a lot as a teenager. It’s more of a hangout for younger people, and I knew every nook and cranny. Still do, really. Because now and then I like to come back and reminisce, and ride all my favorite rides all over again.”

  I wonder who else she’s come here with. Guys, I mean. As I try to put that image out of my head, though, all that’s left to think about is the roller coaster. I really don’t know which one is worse.

  As we walk towards it, I decide it’s time for a new plan of action. Hell, if I can change plays on the field, I know I can do it at a fucking amusement park.

  “Let’s not hit the rides just yet,” I tell Chelsea.

  She gives me a funny look, but I just shrug nonchalantly and say, “We can’t do the most exciting thing first, or we’ll be bored for the rest of the day.”

  “That’s what you think,” she says. “But how do you know the roller coaster is the most exciting thing we’re going to do all day?”

  She gives me a sexy wink, and my knees go weak for new reasons.

  “That’s a very good point,” I respond.

  I like this sassy side of her.

  But not enough to ride that damn roller coaster.

  “What do you have in mind instead?” she asks. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

  So I can throw it up? I think.

  But I say, “I was thinking I’d win you a stuffed bear at the shooting range game, or something.”

  “I like the way you think,” she says, and I take her hand as we head over to an area full of games.

  It’s mostly full of kids too little to ride many rides, and I feel like an idiot for making us come here. I should just man up and go on the damn ride with her. But when I even think of trying to do it, my age old fear comes back. So I concentrate on shooting the target in the game I’m playing, although apparently I’m no good at it because my score is really low.

  “I think I might need a practice round,” I say, grinning confidently to hide the fact that I feel like a fucking idiot. “I’ll win you multiple stuffed animals, as soon as I remember how to play this game from my youth.”

  Chelsea shakes her head, with a flirtatious look in her eyes, and says, “You never need to practice anything. You’re just good at it. You must be too caught up in your secret date. But fine. I’ll go get us some cotton candy.”

  Damn, she’s hot. And I can’t help but watch her walk away. I notice that all the other guys are doing the same thing.

  Then, just as I’m about to turn back around and try my hand at this game now that she’s not here to distract me, I see one of the guys reach out and grab Chelsea’s ass.

  “Hey!” she says, spinning around to slap his hand. “Stop it!”

  He quickly reaches up and grabs her arm.

  “What’re you gonna do about it, little girl?”

  I’m there before I even realize what I’m doing. It’s just instinctive. I wind my arm back and sock him right in the nose.

  “Umph!”

  He falls to the ground with a thud, letting out a noise that’s as unattractive as he is. He’s fat, ugly and disgusting, and I’m glad I knocked him out. Chelsea doesn’t deserve to be treated like a piece of meat, or manhandled by that moron.

  I only have a second to see her grateful, dazzling smile before I feel a punch to my own nose. Stunned, I look around to see that a friend of the moron is trying to take me out.

  No f
ucking way.

  I return his punch, but I soon feel another one from someone else. Two people are punching and kicking me. I’m surprised the moron has so many friends.

  I swing around and quickly knock down both guys. Then I spin around again, wondering if there are any more. In the meantime, one of them gets back up and comes at me yet again.

  “Break it up!” someone shouts, blowing a shrill whistle that’s even harder on the ears than the one that Coach Thompson uses.

  It’s the cops— or at least some wannabe amusement park security guard cops— and they start walking me out, along with the other two guys. The first guy is having some trouble getting up. I really knocked him out cold.

  My first thought is of Chelsea. I can’t leave without her. I look around and see her hurrying to join me from the crowd. Good.

  My next thought is that I can’t get arrested. I’ll be kicked off the team. But luckily the guards just walk me to the turnstiles and say, “Get out of here and stop causing trouble.”

  “But he didn’t start it…” Chelsea protests, until I look in her direction and whisper, “Shhhhh.”

  I don’t want to press my luck. I’m glad I’m not being punished too severely.

  And secretly I’m glad to be getting kicked out of the amusement park and basically being told not to return. It’s like a wish come true, and Chelsea will never have to know why.

  She’ll continue to think of me as a badass, and we can move right on to the “most fun” part of the date that she’d mentioned earlier. With the fear of the roller coaster off my mind, my cock rises to the occasion, ready to explore something more intimate than a public amusement park.

  Chapter 23 – Chelsea

  As soon as we’re out of the gate, I head over to the ice cream truck that’s always parked out front, so that people waiting in line to get into the amusement park can buy snacks. Luckily for us, though, at this time of day there’s no wait.

  “One super sized ice cream sandwich, please,” I tell the bored looking kid manning the cash register.

  “Did watching me flex my muscles and beat up those assholes make you ravenous?” Wesley asks me. “Because it’s a strange time to decide to get a snack.”