Page 183 of Only Be Mine

And there, sitting atop a stack of folders, not tucked away, not hidden, was a ring.

Just sitting there, heavy, gold, and undeniably masculine.

My breath left me before I understood why.

It wasn’t in a box.

Wasn’t wrapped in anything.

It lay there like it had been taken out and set down with intention.

I reached for it before I could stop myself.

The metal was cool, smooth.

I turned it over in my hand.

The crest caught the light first, raised letters and a shield I hadn’t seen in years.

My stomach dropped.

No.

I flipped it into my palm and raised it to my eyes. There, inside the band… it was engraved.

J.R.

My vision tunneled.

For a second I was back at The Scot & Barrel, laughing as John wiggled his pinky finger in my face.

“Don’t lose it,” I’d teased.

“Never,” he’d said. “It’s tradition.”

Seth had one too.

Their fraternity rings. They bragged about how they’d stood shoulder to shoulder at initiation, proud and stupid and twenty-one.

John wore his on his pinky.

Always.

I sank into Trevor’s desk chair without meaning to.

The air suddenly felt thinner.

There was no explanation.

No reasonable bridge from ten years ago to now.

Unless…

No.

I forced myself to think.

Could someone else have had one?