Stuck on You (Steamy Enemies To Lovers Rom Com)

I grasp the ring and wait for it to obliterate me. Or Elisa. Or maybe incinerate the house, bring a UFO down through the roof, create some swirling black smoke and one hell of a pissed-off magician, or perhaps just some inky, nasty, deadly smoke. But nope. Nothing.

Except, when I try to pull the ring, which doesn’t feel overly tight on Elisa’s finger, it doesn’t budge. I grasp it with all my fingers around her finger and tug. But nope, still nothing. I plant my feet firmly on the step and pull. Again, a whole lot of nothing.

Then, I pulled it even harder because, you know, the third time is the charm and everything. And what do you know, the ring finally budges. I can feel it. It slides a whole possible nanometer or whatever tiny measurement that’s barely discernable, but it doesn’t move more than that.

The effect, though, is just about instant. Elisa lets out a great big gasp, rips her hand from mine, and comes back to life. Her face switches from surprise to indignation and confusion. She flexes her hand—the hand with the ring—then stares Meryl and me down.

“What the heck is going on?”

“You…you put the ring on!” Meryl gasps. “And you were frozen in time. Like a statue. Right here on the step. We tried to get it off you because it seriously is cursed, but it wouldn’t come off. Ash must have budged it a bit because…uh…you finally snapped out of it.”

Elisa blinks at us and slowly looks down at the ring. “That’s not…that’s not possible. It’s a perfect fit. It slid on easily. It should just come off…” She trails off, diverting her attention to the insidious bastard of a cursed object on her left hand. She curls the fingers of her right hand around it and tugs. Then, she tugs again. Her lips part. “That’s weird.”

“We have to get it off!” Meryl all but screams right into my ear. “Now!”

“Whoa…” Elisa backs up, putting her hands up to ward us off. “No way. Okay, this is my hand, my body. Whatever you’re thinking…”

“Nothing like that,” Meryl assures her. “I was thinking soap and water? Olive oil from the kitchen maybe? Some kind of jelly?”

“Ewwww. Um, okay. I…yeah. Let’s try that, I guess. I’m sorry. I…what the heck just happened? Did you say I was frozen?” Things are obviously starting to sink in because Elisa shudders. Her whole body moves with it, from her shoulders to her fingers, her middle, her legs, and her toes.

It’s a very inappropriate moment to notice the curves my maid is sporting beneath a plain white t-shirt and a set of dark skinny jeans, but I’m not blind, and the shudder that just made her sway in an entirely provocative manner, thrusting out nice, full breasts and shaking curvy hips, didn’t help.

I tear my eyes away fast and drop them down to her…to the ring. Yes, to the ring. “Don’t worry, Elisa. We’ll figure it out. There is no such thing as curses. I promise.”

“Ha!” She yelps. “No such thing? Why was I just…frozen? You said I was frozen! I only remember putting it on. It’s like…it’s like it called to me. How did the box tumble down the steps and land right side up anyway with the ring perfectly intact inside? I heard this…well, it was like drums in my head or something. And my brain was pounding. It felt like…like…I don’t know. The urge to put it on was real. I don’t know why I did it. I just…I’m sorry.” She looks forlorn for a second, but then she collects herself, inhaling sharply, and her eyes narrow. “Wait a minute. Did you just call me Elisa? Again?”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

She snorts. “Rich assholes never remember anyone’s name.”

“Excuse me?” Did she honestly just call me a rich asshole right to my face? The look of derision she shoots at me has some borderline super hostile tendencies going on underneath.

“It’s not Elisa?” Meryl steps in. She asks kindly, and usually, women have this odd competitive thing going on with Meryl. I guess it has to do with her being really pretty. Women tend not to like other pretty women, but the maid whose name I apparently do not know because I’m a rich asshole actually calms down and gives Meryl a genuine smile.

“No. It’s Ellis.”

“Ellis is a guy’s name,” I protest. “Maybe that’s why I thought it was Elisa.”

“Ellis was the name my parents gave me. It was my mom’s favorite, and she’s no longer in this world, so that alone makes me proud to have it,” EllisnotElisa snaps at me.

“Okaaaayyyyy,” Meryl cuts in. She steps down and wraps an arm around my hostile, and probably now cursed, maid’s shoulders. “Let’s go into the kitchen and see if we can find some oil to get the ring off.”