Bonnie Foster

Motherfucker.

He actually knew I didn't lose my memory.

I'd been pacing the stone path outside the resort for what felt like an hour, the warm night air doing nothing to cool me down. My mind was spinning. That smug bastard—he'd known all along. Every kind word, every gentle touch, all of it... willingly.

But why? What was his angle? Why hadn't he called me out? Was he waiting for me to slip up, to confess? Or was this all part of whatever mind game he'd been playing since the start?

"Why're you here, Bonnie?"

I froze. My head whipped around, and there he was—Luigi, hands in his pockets, looking unfairly good in the dim resort lighting. Damn him for having timing like a ghost.

"I got hungry and went looking for a restaurant," I lied smoothly, keeping my voice casual. "But this place is huge, and I got lost."

He didn't know that I knew. Which meant the game was still on.

"I'm hungry too," he said simply—and before I could blink, he bent down, scooped me clean off my feet, and t