“If you say so. I have no experience with cameras in my face.”
As long as I don’t barf over the railings ... and how bad would it be if I do?
“Oh, hell. Hang on, I almost forgot.” Brady smacks his forehead.
I turn to him as he stands, staring in disbelief as he pulls a small box from his pocket, kneels, pops it open, and offers me the unspeakable.
A giant sparkling stone attached to a shadow of gold. Large and square and bursting with diamonds.
Holy shit!
Every bit of me should hate how gaudy it is, but instead I feel adrenaline.
“Lena.” He smiles like the cocky madman he is as he looks into my eyes—definitely not the expression I ever imagined on a man confronting me with a ring.
My lungs stall before he says those four fatal words.
“Lena, will you marry me?”
So frickingweird.
I have to resist the urge to laugh brokenly in his face. The worst part is, I don’t know why.
I just feel the metric ton of emotion dropping me on my face, squeezing my life out.
My very first marriage proposal—theonly one—and of course it’s a total fraud.
We’re just doing this to pull one over, and he had to turn it into a more depraved joke than it already is.
That slight gurgle in my stomach since I woke up this morning intensifies into a cramp.
But there’s no way I can crack. Not when I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of this man.
“... Real gold, huh? I’m impressed.” I genuinely am as the pretty ring catches the light, breaking the light like glitter dust.
“Would I give my fiancée anything less than the best?” He gets up to sit next to me again. “So, will you?”
God, why? Why is there a boulder in my throat?
As he holds it out for me—guess no one ever walked him through a proposal before, like how you’re supposed to slide it onto the woman’s finger—I lean forward and whisper, “If you have my check, I’m yours.”
“Of course.” He grins and pats his pocket. “Now put it on so we can see how it fits.”
Fantasy ended.
After fumbling around, I slide it on my ring finger.
A little too easily, almost. It’s a hair too big, but it’s nothing a quick resizing won’t fix, and it’ll work for this cringe video.
“Are we ready?” Luis asks behind the camera, frowning at our little sideshow.
Absolutely not.
But Brady turns to him and nods. “Start rolling when she says okay. Ready, Lena?”
Not for a hundred years.
But my ego could never survive panic-running now, so I just beam back this flimsy smile.
