Happenstance(65)

“That is weirdly specific. I’m more of a trivia and nachos girl.”

“We can do that, too. I’ve never had nachos.”

I come to a halt at the top of the stairs, slowly turning around. “You’ve never had nachos?”

“Show me what I’m missing, Elise.” He stops on the stair below me, making us almost eye level, his attention dipping to my mouth and heating. “I’ll even let you bring the other two wankers, as long as they promise not to touch my Jean Louis David volumizer.”

“What is that? By the way, I already regret asking.”

“It’s the styling mousse I have shipped from France. Banks will use it just to fuck with me and Gabe will probably mistake it for whipped cream.”

My lips wobble with the need to smile, but I do my best to keep a stern expression. “Stop pretending like you don’t like Gabe and Banks.”

“We share a common obsession.” He reaches out and frames my jaw, brushing his thumb right to left across the seam of my mouth. “Hard not to feel a sense of camaraderie when there is one girl wrapping herself around our collective throats.”

A tingle swims through me, all the way to the ends of my hair follicles. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment to squeeze the life out of you.”

“You did exactly that back on the roof, love.” He climbs the remaining stair and backs me across the landing, his hard body coming up against mine in a slow, firm press that has every nerve ending inside of me shooting sparks. “More, please,” he growls into my neck.

I push him off before I get taken under, surprised by the…authority I’m feeling. And the welcome sense of obligation. “No. Next time, everyone will be there. Together.” I shake my head, trying to come up with the words to explain the shift that has been taking place inside of me since meeting these three. “We were together today—alone—and…I loved it. Really loved it. But there is a balance that has to be restored now. That’s up to me, I think.” I study Tobias’s face for a reaction. “I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

“You are.” Serious now, he slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Hesitates to speak. Then, “Even I have been feeling…anxious to get everyone back on an even surface since we made love. And I’m a classic narcissist.”

“No you’re not,” I say on a burst of laughter. “Who told you that?”

“Everyone I’ve ever met.”

I take the remaining steps to my apartment door and insert the key, pushing open the door, “Well, give them my number so I can—”

My heart drops like a boulder.

The apartment is in disarray.

Books are everywhere, possessions from both rooms tossed on the floor, even food from the kitchen cabinets is smeared in places, scattered in others.

Ransacked. Someone did this on purpose.

“Tobias,” I whisper, reaching for him. My palm lands in the center of his chest and he gently captures my wrist, coming up behind me. As soon as he processes the scene from over the top of my head, he yanks me back out of the apartment, standing between me and the mess. “I assume it doesn’t always look like that?” he asks tightly.

“No. Shayna. Oh my God, my roommate—”

“Is she home this time of day?”

“No. She works downtown, but she could have called in sick or worked virtually today.” Pulse scrabbling, I wheel around him, trying to enter the apartment, but he turns quickly, wrapping his arms around my waist and preventing me from going any further. “I need to make sure she’s not in there. Shayna?”

“I will check, Elise.” He scans the hallway end to end. Searching for a threat? “You will wait right here.” The sudden change in his demeanor, from playful to imposing, renders me momentarily speechless. All I can do is watch with my hands over my mouth as he enters the apartment, stepping over throw pillows and rolls of toilet paper, disappearing into each bedroom and the bathroom, even the closets. He emerges from the final one shaking his head. “There’s no one here.”

I let out the breath I’ve been holding and step over the threshold. My immediate—albeit ridiculous—response is to begin cleaning everything up, but Tobias stops me. He takes my face in his hands and forces me to focus on him.

“Elise. The television is still here. A laptop in the other bedroom. It doesn’t appear to be a robbery.” He pauses, searching my face. “Do you have any idea who would do this?”

“No. I—” Abruptly, I cut myself off, leaving the denial hanging in the air. A chill carries up my spine and washes over the back of my neck. No. No…my apartment hasn’t been destroyed over the Alexander-Crouch story. Right? This kind of personal retaliation doesn’t happen in real life. This isn’t The Sopranos. Everything goes through lawyers and…

The picture.

It was sitting on my dresser when I left the apartment this morning.

My feet carry me into my room slowly. I already know the manila envelope is going to be missing when I step over the threshold, but I’m still knocked back a step. This confirms it—my apartment has been trashed by someone connected to the story. As far as I can tell, it’s the only thing missing.

Tobias comes to a stop beside me at the foot of my bed. The longer I’m silent, the closer his eyebrows creep toward his hairline. “It would appear you have some idea who did this.”