“That’s not—” I try again. “It’s not made for your hand.”
“It’s fine,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Well, take it off before you smudge it with your single-guy juju, please,” Emma jokes as he tugs at it.
Nothing.
His brow furrows slightly. He twists it once, then again, a little more force this time. Still nothing.
Emma leans in, immediately catching on. “It’s not stuck, right?”
“It’s fine,” he says, a little too quickly, giving it another pull. Yet, it does not move. At all.
I press my lips together, very aware that I am watching a grown man, a professional athlete, get stuck in a situation he absolutely created for himself. “Ty, that ring was not sized for you.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, still working at it. “I’m getting that.”
Emma is no longer even pretending to be helpful, her expression alternating between amused and horrified. “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not kidding,” he says, a little tighter this time, twisting again. Nothing.
I step forward, already reaching for the small bottle of solution I keep nearby. “Okay. Don’t panic.”
“I’m not panicking.”
“You’re definitely panicking.”
“I’m not panic—” He stops, looks at me. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Emma laughs outright. “You’re really stuck.”
“I’m not stuck.”
“It’s probably because I had soy sauce last night.” He pulls again. The ring does not move. “It always bloats me.”
I hold out my hand while his sister snickers. “Give me your hand.”
He looks at me.
“Before you make it worse.” I raise my brows. “Please.”
He hesitates for half a second, then holds it out. I take it, steadying his hand as I glance up at him briefly. “You’re not the first person this has happened to.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It shouldn’t,” Emma says cheerfully.
I shake my head. “Next time, maybe don’t try on someone else’s wedding ring.”
“I’ll take that on board.”
I twist the ring gently. It doesn’t budge. I try again, a little more carefully this time, but it stays exactly where it is. I pause, then look up at him. He looks back at me, and for the first time since he walked in, there’s a flicker of something that might actually be concern.
“Okay,” I say slowly, “now we might have a problem.”
CHAPTER 4
TY
