“For you, yes! Retina’s are delicate!”
Christian snorts. “You should be a doctor.”
I shrug. “I could be a doctor. But imagine being over two hundred thousand dollars in debt? I couldn’t do that. We’d end up homeless.”
“I’ll get more jobs,” he says, as if it is that simple. “I’ll strip.”
I laugh loudly. “No, the only person you strip for is me.”
He smirks and his arms come around me, rolling me onto my back. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Should I give you a strip tease later tonight?”
“Absolutely, yes.”
Christian laughs and it sounds like summer. It sounds the way the sun feels on us right now. His laugh sounds like when you hear the keys jingle coming from outside the house just before the door unlocks and opens, and your favorite person is coming home to you.
“Marry me,” he says.
I laugh. “What?”
“Marry me.”
“Now?”
He shrugs. “Whenever you’re ready…Marry me.”
“Christian,” I breathe.
“I’m going to marry you, Lana,” Christian whispers. “Today, tomorrow, in five years. Ten years, twenty, I don’t care. I only want you.”
“Marriage is like…a forever thing.”
“And so are you, Lana,” he says softly, lovingly. “Marry me.”
I laugh. “It feels like you’re putting me on hold.”
He sucks his teeth. “You’re right. You can only be put on hold if you have a ring.”
“I’m a person!”
“My favorite person.”
Christian rolls of me and sits up, and I follow suit. He takes off his sunglasses and I push mine up to the top of my head as he grabs something from our bag. It’s a tiny box. Not the velvety or the fancy ones that engagement rings come in. This one is just…simple. Perfectly us.
“Christian?”
“Give me your hand.”
“I swear to?—”
He laughs. “Would you stop? Just give me your right hand.”
Smiling, I put my right hand in his and he takes out the ring. It’s a small, gold, dainty ring—thin band and a tiny stone. A ruby. He puts it on my right middle finger, and it’s the perfect fit. And it looks so pretty with my gold pinky ring.
“Ruby is your birthstone, Christian.”
