Page 70 of Zen's Crash

“Damn, you’re right, Gregory. This is nice enough to grace my woman’s finger for the rest of her life.” Turning to me, he says, “Are you a hundred percent on this?”

“I’ve never seen anything so perfect before. It’s not too expensive, is it?”

Zen grins at me and replies in his most sincere voice ever, “Oh no, it’s not too expensive. Not at all. In fact, it’s a real bargain, right, Gregory?”

The nice salesman makes a strangled sound and chokes out, “It’s a three-and-a-half-carat, heart-shaped black diamond from the Lebard’s diamond mine in Brazil. It was cut and set in France before being shipped to our store. It ranks in the top eight percent for color and cut. The color isn’t artificially deepened like many black diamonds. It’s the perfect choice for an engagement ring, in my humble opinion.”

“That all sounds amazing. It fits perfectly, like it was custom-made for me, it won’t even need to be resized,” I say enthusiastically.

Zen smiles at me and tells Gregory, “You heard the lady. We’ll take it.” I watch Zen hand over his credit card and think to myself, it can’t cost that much if he’s charging it.

When Gregory opens a little box and reaches for my hand, I pull it away and hide it behind my back. “I think it’s stuck,” I joke.

The salesman shakes his head, I guess he’s seen that move a thousand times. Looking him in the eye, I tell him, “I want to purchase earrings to match, myself.”

Zen laughs. “You’re gonna end up my wife by default simply because you don’t want to let go of that ring.”

Gregory is all smiles and happiness when he brings me a tray of earrings. I pick out a dangly pair and two pairs of studs, none of which are as large as the gemstone in the ring. I hand him my debit card and watch as he wraps my purchases and packages them into one of their luxurious gold bags. The ring stays on my finger because I’m never taking it off again. I turn to Zen, “I really should buy you a gift as well.”

He just shakes his head. “Don’t bother. I don’t wear jewelry. Just knowing you want to buy something for me is enough.”

I’m clearly going to have to figure out what he likes that he hasn’t already bought for himself and get it for him.

Chapter 27

Zen

Isit at the bar drinking with Rigs, because he’s the one we all share our troubles with.

“I’m not gonna lie. I woke up this morning hoping to throw a ring on her finger and am thrilled she found one she doesn’t want to take off. She already agreed to be mine, so there’s that.”

Rigs just stares at me. “You said you had a problem you wanted to talk over. Forgive me if I’m a little slow on the uptake here, but I don’t even get a single whiff of a problem from what you just said, brother.”

“I don’t know, I guess I thought I’d be doing the whole proposal thing, but it’s kind of like we’re already there without me actually popping the question. I’m not in a rush, but truth be told, I’d marry her tomorrow if she were agreeable. I want her and no one else.”

“Again, that’s not a problem. She accepted your very expensive ring. That’s what we call implied consent.”

“Okay, here’s the real problem. Even if she says yes when I officially pop the question tonight—which I feel compelled to do because she won’t take the ring off—I can’t be sure if she’ll want me after a therapist gets ahold of her and helps her deal with all her trauma. Maybe she’ll come to the conclusion that what she feels for me is gratitude, instead of true love.”

Understanding clicks into place on Rigs’ face. “Ah… Okay, now I see the problem. Here’s my advice on that.”

I lean closer to hear every word and almost immediately regret it, because he gets in my face and yells, “Stop being a damn idiot! Anyone with a working pair of eyes can see how good you are together.”

I’m pleased my club brother thinks that, but there’s still something on my mind. “It’s just that I’m ten years older than Lexi, and she’s been through a lot over the last year or so. I don’t want her to feel like she owes me a relationship.”

Tank speaks up from the other side of me. “Does she love bouncing on your cock?”

Shocked, I ask, “Where did that question come from?”

He frowns at me. “I’m gonna take that as a no.”

“Hold up, Tank. Sex is not a problem. She likes my cock just fine.”

“Then she likes you. Nice women—no matter their age—don’t bounce on cocks if they don’t have feelings for the guy. That’s the thing that distinguishes them from club girls.”

I hear Rigs murmur, “This is very true.”

I look at Rigs waiting to see what other wisdom he has to share on the subject.

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