Page 68 of Five Stolen Rings
“I have no excuse,” I say, my soul feeling soheavyunder the weight of the past. “None at all.”
Jack shakes his head and holds up one hand to stop me. “I didn’t tell you so you’ll apologize for something you did when you were a kid,” he says.
“But I should apologize,” I argue. Something horribly like tears is clawing at the back of my throat, and I try to swallow them down. “Because I never did, Jack. I never said sorry.”
He shrugs. “I got to put staples in your skull, didn’t I?” he says, pointing to my head. “So I’m all good.”
“Don’t do that,” I say. I swipe angrily at my eyes. “Don’t pretend like it’s not a big deal.”
“But it’snot,” Jack says with a sigh. He leans forward. “It was a billion years ago, Stella. It felt like a big deal to me then, but I’m not an angry teenager anymore.” His dark eyes flit over my face. “I grew up, matured. So did you.”
I sniffle like a gross snot monster. “I’m still sorry.”
“So am I,” he says. “We were stupid. But I’m not holding it against you, okay? Now let’s change the subject.” He gestures to me, one brow arching. “You’re about to burst into tears, and it’s painful to watch.”
“Fine,” I say, swiping at my cheeks again. “Let’s talk about the rings you stole from your stepmother.”
“She stole them from me first,” he fires back. He relaxes in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “They were never hers to begin with.”
“That may be,” I concede, “but theycannotgo missing while I am in charge of watching her house. I will be suspect number one. So we need to take them back.” I point toward the hallway that leads to his room. “Right now. Go get them.”
“Awfully bossy, aren’t you, Stella girl?” he says as a smirk tugs at his lips. He settles himself even more comfortably in his chair, if that’s possible. “Didn’t you say you don’t like growly demands?”
“From you,” I correct him, and it feels good to be bantering normally again instead of dwelling on my teenage stupidity. “I don’t like growly demandsfrom you.”
“Ah,” he says slowly, brows raised, chin up. “But don’t you think a true relationship requires equal footing and no double standards?”
I point once again to the hallway. “Unless you want me digging through all your drawers, go. Get. Them.”
That smirk widens into a full-blown grin. “What’s the magic word, Princess?”
I have several words for him, none of them magic, none of them polite. And he must be able to see this, because he throws his head back and laughs before finally pushing his chair away from the table and standing.
“All right, but let me run something by you,” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.
I cock one brow at his retreating back. “Yes?”
He reappears a moment later with a small brown box in one hand and settles smoothly in the chair next to mine, all lithe muscles and grace. Then he plops the box on the table in front of us.
“I recognize that,” I say with a frown, pointing at it. “That was in your room. It was on top of your dresser when I?—”
“When you woke up in my bed?” he finishes, cocking one eyebrow at me and grinning. “Sure was.”
I press my hands to my cheeks and clear my throat. “How long have you had those? When did you take them?”
He lets out a gust of breath. “After the Christmas party. We kissed.”
I stare blankly at him.
“And then I panicked,” he adds, as though this will clear things up.
“And naturally, when one panics, one…steals jewelry?” I say. “I’m missing the connection.”
He slumps back in his chair and rolls his eyes, but there’s a faint flush of red climbing his neck, spreading to the tips of his ears. “I freaked out, okay? So then I went to get the rings. Something about being in control of my life—I don’t know,” he adds defensively. “It made sense at the time.”
I hold my hands up. “No judgment here,” I say, but my eyes fall to the box on the table again. “Well, except for the part about actually taking the rings. I might judge you a little for that.” I infuse enough lightness into my tone that he knows I’m joking—but it’s weird, this line I’m trying to walk. Friendly but more, but nottoomuch more.
Still, the flash of relief in his eyes and the slight tug of his lips tell me I’m doing okay.
