Page 192 of Can't Always Get What You Want

“You gonna cry?”

“No.”

“Youlooklike you might cry.”

“I’m not going to cry.”I might actually want to cry.“I’m sensitive, you fucker.”

I drain the champagne in one swallow.

Gio eyes me over the rim of his glass. “So how you gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Propose, dumbass. You think she’s gonna stumble across the ring in your sock drawer and put it on herself?”

I stare at the ring again, nestled in its velvet box; it’s perfect. Sleek and classic with a twist. The oval diamond sits in a platinum band, elevated by a hidden halo that flashes light every time it turns.

Delicate but strong. Bold but elegant.

Like her.

And on the inside, the engraving is etched in teeny, tiny, block letters:You’re stuck with me now.

It’s the exact kind of stupidly-sweet sentiment Nova will roll her eyes at—before bursting into tears.

God, I hope she cries.

Ha!

“I don’t know,” I finally admit. “I want it to be special, but not, performative. No stadium jumbotrons, too predictable.” I let out a deep breath and smile at the sales associate, who’s been patient while we screw around. “Honestly, I was going to set it on the shelf at the grocery store with the beans and pray to fucking God that she finds it before someone else does.”

Gio pulls face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I demand, face flushing. “It’s not like I was going to leave it next to the grapes or something. I have a plan!”

“Lettuce hear it,” he deadpans.

I glare at him. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious. Continue.”

I wave my champagne flute in the air. “I was going to suggest tacos for dinner. But I already know we don’t have all the ingredients, so I’ll be like,“Babe, wanna come with me to the grocerystore, we need tomatoes and beef,”and she’ll come with me and boom—ring nestled between the franks and beans.”

Gio is not impressed. “That’syour plan?”

“Well, it was.”

“I’m still not over the fact that you plan to propose to my sister in a grocery store.”

His tone doesn’t faze me. “The grocery store holds a special place in our hearts. You wouldn’t understand.”

Nova’s brother sets down his glass and mutters, “Jesus Christ.”

The sales associate, who has patiently listened to this entire ridiculous exchange and is either deeply invested or bored, refills my glass with champagne. “I’d personally go to the floral department. Better lighting.”

Eh.

Gio blinks. “Am I the only sane person here?”

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