English Accent (The Accents #1)

Where is my friend?

"Sometimes I wonder what you think of me." I said, walking up the stairs. "I mean, seriously, I'm officially nineteen years old and I am fully capable of making it to the third floor all by myself."

After peeling off me, Dominic insisted on walking me to my apartment. Not surprisingly, I made a little show back downstairs, trying to make it clear to him that I wasn't a damsel in distress needing an escort to make it up a flight of stairs. But he didn't seem to listen to my complaints and caught the door when I tried to close it right in his face. During our walk up I almost run, wanting to show him I could make it without him. But even with me jumping every second step, his long legs were still able to catch up with me.

Stupid tall people.

By the time I reached my apartment door, I was huffing and puffing from the effort of outrunning him. Not waiting for him – I did manage to lose him at some point, after all – I turned the knob and came inside. I suspected Sierra to be home, which would explain the door being open, but when I stepped into the hall, everything was dark. Furrowing my brows, I came in further into the apartment, expecting to find her in the kitchen or by the TV. Nothing.

I heard footsteps behind me and knew that Dominic had stepped inside, but I didn't care about him right now. Everything in my head centered on why the apartment was standing open and where the hell was Sierra. Storming down the hall, I threw open the door to her bedroom, then to mine. Empty. Really starting to panic now, I turned around and bumped into a chest – a chest which couldn't possibly belong to Sierra. Dominic's arms grabbed me and held me in place as I tried to wiggle out of his embrace.

"What is it, Sweetie?" His voice sounded concerned.

"What is it? What is it?" I took a step back, staring at him. "I come into the dark apartment, with my friend gone, and you're asking what is it?"

"Hey. Calm down." His fingers curled around my upper arms. "I'm sure it's fine. Maybe she just went to take out the rubbish or something."

I snorted.

"Sierra wouldn't take out the rubbish."

"Well, okay." He seemed to think about the next option. "Well, maybe she just went out and forgot to close the door behind her? No offense, Sweetie, but she doesn't struck me as a responsible kind of person."

"She's not Max." I frowned. "She wouldn't do something like that."

"Maybe she just went for a walk?" He tried. "Or running. You told me once she liked running."

I glared at him.

"It's like fifty degrees outside and snowing."

"Okay. You've got a point."

I saw his forehead wrinkle in the darkness.

"Have you checked everywhere?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"One hundred and forty percent?"

"Yes."

I was getting irritated now and opened my mouth, fully intending to yell at him for not helping, but closed it. His eyes darted to the right for a moment, catching my attention. I turned my head in this direction, following his gaze and found myself staring straight at the closed door of the... bathroom. I glanced at him sideways, wanting to ensure myself, but he wasn't looking at me anymore, so I left him standing there and crept down the hall.

And nearly experienced a heart attack.

When I was just a few steps away, the bathroom door burst open and a mass of people fell out, laughing. A second later the light in the room switched on and I found myself staring at the little group of my idiot friends, standing in my hall and laughing their stupid asses off.