Page 2 of Lick
What had happened last night? My head remained a tangled, throbbing mess, the details hazy, incomplete.
“We should get something into you,” he said. “You want me to order some dry toast or something?”
“No.” The thought of food was not fun. Not even coffee appealed, and coffee always appealed. I was half tempted to check myself for a pulse, just in case. Instead, I pushed my hand through my crappy hair, getting it out of my eyes. “No… ow!” Strands caught on something, tugging hard at my scalp. “Crap.”
“Hang on.” He reached out and carefully disentangled my messy do from whatever was causing the trouble. “There we go.”
“Thanks.” Something winked at me from my left hand, snagging my attention. A ring, but not just any ring. An amazing ring, a stupendous one.
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
It couldn’t be real. It was so big it bordered on obscene. A stone that size would cost a fortune. I stared, bemused, turning my hand to catch the light. The band beneath was thick, solid, and the rock sure shone and sparkled like the real deal.
As if.
“Ah, yeah. About that…” he said, dark brows drawn down. He looked vaguely embarrassed by the ice rink on my finger. “If you still wanna change it for something smaller, that’s okay with me. It is kinda big. I do get your point about that.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling I knew him from somewhere. Somewhere that wasn’t last night or this morning or anything to do with the ridiculous beautiful ring on my finger.
“You bought me this?” I asked.
He nodded. “Last night at Cartier.”
“Cartier?” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Huh.”
For a long moment he just stared at me. “You don’t remember?”
I really didn’t want to answer that. “What is that, even? Two, three carats?”
“Five.”
“Five? Wow.”
“What do you remember?” he asked, voice hardening just a little.
“Well… it’s hazy.”
“No.” His frown increased until it owned his handsome face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. You seriously don’t know?”
What to say? My mouth hung open, useless. There was a lot I didn’t know. To my knowledge, however, Cartier didn’t do costume jewelry. My head swam. Bad feelings unfurled within my stomach and bile burnt the back of my throat. Worse even than before.
I was not puking in front of this guy.
Not again.
He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. “I didn’t realize you’d had that much to drink. I mean, I knew you’d had a bit, but… shit. Seriously? You don’t remember us going on the gondolas at the Venetian?”
“We went on gondolas?”
“Fuck. Ah, how about when you bought me a burger? Do you remember that?”
“Sorry.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, watching me through narrowed eyes. “You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”
“I’m so sorry.”
He physically recoiled from me. “Let me get this straight, you don’t remember anything?”
