Death Is My BFFLAD (Book Two Original Series)

Chapter 12: Sweet Dreams

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I was once again nauseous, huddled under the covers of the couch, facing the leathered material with a blank expression. Ironically, due to my particular situation in life, if someone had walked into the apartment at that exact moment, I would have looked absolutely dead.

I was devastated. My life simply couldn't have gotten any worse. I practically lost my family, my job, my friend, Marcy, who I barely even spoke to even though she lived only a few feet away, and my...David.

Was he ever mine?

A rippling sensation sent throughout my body thought otherwise, and I dry heaved.

My stomach then gurgled, and I concluded I was simply hungry. I slid my feet lazily across the floor, head down in depression, and dug into the refrigerator's contents. Marcy hadn't cone shopping yet, but the fridge was still supplied with a few cold cuts and Sunny D.

Why was I even standing in front of the refrigerator? I was in no mood for food and I knew it.

I slammed the fridge door closed, hand on stomach.

"Please let me have one moment of happiness," I whispered to myself in a plea, eyes to the ceiling. I then yanked open the freezer door revealing three large tubs of ice-cream.

A small, hopeful smile edged my lips.

"Win."

I retrieved a bowl from the cabinet, sprinkles, whipped cream, and even some chocolate chips and smothered my tub of ice-cream with each topping. My mouth was filled with Chunky Monkey ice-cream within seconds, and I was gulping down the seemingly small container by the millisecond.

Seeing an unfamiliar object in my kitchen, I took a step towards it and eyed it laying on the counter's edge. I couldn't help but laugh as I licked some whipped cream off my finger and then I broke into a fit of giggles.

The man who tortured me with paper work, teased me, showed off his girlfriend in front of me and his body, then made it seem like he was the one who fired me. The man who was simply the most arrogant person to walk the earth, had left his wallet.

David Star's freaking wallet.

With a menacing snort, I set down the container of ice-cream, picked up the worn out leather wallet, and flipped it open.

Inside was a typical, extremely organized wallet with credit cards neatly slid into their pockets. I was completely shocked at first when I immediately saw his driver's license. He was scruffy in the photo, not to the point that he had a beard and could practically be called a Hobo, but he was working some masculine stubble. His hair was it's original brown and disarrayed, curled because of its shorter length and professionally cut to frame his face. The way he posed in the picture made me grit my teeth because he looked so friendly, with his perfect-toothed grin, easy-on-the-eyes face and warm brown eyes. Purposely, in my opinion, he had un-buttoned the top two buttons on his dress-down shirt, just to impress the photographer taking the photo who just had to be a woman by the way he was showing off.

Oh could I see, I could see how cocky that grin was on his face, the way he worked his cute dimples when he smiled and his damn Greek-god hair and body like he was hot shit. By that simple picture, I realized David was also one of those guys that could have any girl he wanted at any time, because I'll admit, he was definitely not a baby-faced boss at all with thick thighs and flabby back rolls like I rumored to many.