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“It’s weird. Pops usually texts me every day, even when we work the same days, but he hasn’t texted me since our first morning,” I explained. “And I just realized he never responded to my text I sent yesterday morning. I hope he’s okay.”
“I’m sure he is, but maybe you should try calling him when we get back to the hotel.”
“That’s a good idea. I know they would call me if something happened to him, but it’s also not like him to not communicate.”
Our deep dish spinach and sausage pizza arrived then, thick and cheesy and completely different from the pizza I’d grown up with on the West Coast.
“Holy crap, this is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” Blair said reverently. “If this pizza was a person I’d have to marry it.”
I burst out laughing, which made Blair stare at me.
“What?” I asked, swiping at my mouth. “Do I have spinach in my teeth or something?”
“No,” she said, her voice more serious than I’d ever heard it. “You look beautiful.”
“You’re so gonna get laid tonight for that,” I promised, wanting to lighten the mood.
We ate as much of our pizza as we could, but it was so thick that even though we’d ordered a smaller size, we still left about a third of it on the table when we left.
“Let’s go ride the Merry Go Round,” Blair suggested. “I don’t want to go up on that Ferris wheel until I’ve digested some of this food.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to start puking again,” I teased. “The people walking below would not appreciate that.”
“Ha ha.”
We eventually made our way to the Ferris wheel, holding hands as the wheel turned, lifting us up and giving us the most incredible view of the city and Lake Michigan. When our gondola reached the very top, we slid closer and shared a sweet kiss.
“Ferris wheels are the coolest!” Blair enthused as we reached the bottom. “Let’s ride again.”
We did. Two more times.
We spent the rest of the afternoon at Navy Pier, wandering around and enjoying the day as we checked out the art installation and the myriad of shops. It was hot outside, but the breeze coming in off the lake kept the heat from being too oppressive. Eventually we decided to head back to the hotel and take a break before we figured out a plan for dinner.
Blair turned on the television, finding a rerun of some show I’d never heard of, but we didn’t watch it. As soon as we were both on the bed, our hands started wandering. One thing led to another, and soon we were rolling on the bed, doing our best to rip off each other’s clothes without pausing the epic make-out session we were having. That’s why it took a few seconds for the sound of knocking on the door to permeate our lustful haze.
“Police! Open up!”
“What the hell?”
I headed for the door, not remembering that I was dressed only in panties and a tank top. I’d scarcely opened the door when two cops pushed inside.
“Excuse me! You can’t barge in here like that. Let me see your ID.”
The cop gave me a dismissive look before turning to Blair.
“Are you Blair Melbourne?”
“Y—yes.”
How did he know that?
“We need you to come with us, Miss Melbourne,” the cop said, grabbing her arm. “People are looking for you.”
“Hey!” I surged forward, but the other cop spun me around to face the wall, pulling my hands behind my back. I felt the cold steel of handcuffs on my wrists. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping.”
He started reciting my Miranda rights like they did on TV.
“What are you talking about?” I yelped. “I didn’t kidnap anyone.”
