When I open the front door, Alice is cleaning. “Am I in the wrong apartment?” I snicker, running my finger along a bookcase and it’s clean. Haven’t seen that in forever.
“Very funny. When I got here it looked like a Veronica tornado hit. The couch was crooked. Every cabinet door was open. The remotes were in the bathroom. It was insane. After fixing everything, thought I’d tidy up since Emily’s coming over later to watch a movie.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot about the mess. I had to go shopping with my mom and…it went how you’re imagining.”
She frowns. “Went to hell.”
“So fast. I have third degree burns.” I look at my empty finger, remembering my mermaid ring is missing.
“You didn’t happen to see my ring anywhere? I lost it.”
Alice fake gasps. “The ring you never take off even when showering?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. That ring.”
“Haven’t seen it. Sorry.” She eyes my bedroom and then me. “Maybe someone took it.”
“What?”
She flips her hair dramatically. “I don’t know. Looks like someone had some fun in the sack and maybe he took it.”
“Maybe…”
Alice laughs. “Text him and see. Emily should be here soon.” She gives me a look as if asking me to disappear.
“I’ll be in my room doing orders from my website. People really love the pillow and new shirt options I added. And don’t worry. I’ll have my noise cancelling headphones on the entire time.”
After finishing my one hundred and forty orders and setting them against my closet since Alice would skin me alive if I put the packages in the living room, I lie on my bed and stare at my naked hand.
Thinking back, I do remember having the ring while watchingDie Hardbecause Sully commented on how cute it was when I reached for popcorn. So, it’s in the apartment…or is it?
I lie across the bed on my stomach, kicking my legs in the air. He’s going to think I’m weird asking him if he ripped a ring right off my finger while I was asleep, but I have to know. It’s that or there’s a ghost who is vicious enough to watch me run around with my head chopped off.
Before I chicken out, I type out a quick text and hit send. I roll over onto my back, clenching my teeth. My stomach twists with nerves, tight and fluttery, like it’s trying to fold in on itself.
What are you thinking? Why would a rock star want your damn ring that’s not even worth a hundred bucks? When did you become the center of the universe?
I press my fingers into my eyes as a bitter laugh cuts through my teeth.
The phone vibrates with his reply.
You mean this?
And he shares a picture of my ring on his thumbnail.
Fucking bastard!
Sudden rage spikes through my veins. I bolt into a sitting position with my feet planted on the floor. After inhaling a breath, I type my reply.
Why did you take my ring!?
To ensure I’d see you again. Come over. I’ll send a car.
Kinda feels serial killer-like now.
You can strip-search me if it makes you feel better.
Going to do more than that when I get my hands on you
