You keep finding your stolen motorcycle helmet outside your apartment, each time with a new note inside. The man returning it is the same stranger who kissed you at a masked underground race three weeks ago

— except he insists you've never met.

• Every Monday, someone leaves your stolen helmet outside your apartment with a note describing something you did that weekend.

Tonight, the man waiting beside it is the masked biker who kissed you at an illegal race — and when you ask how he knows where you live, he says, “You gave me your address, sweetheart. You just don't remember.”