Sloane swallows. A burst of nerves flood my veins and I’m about to launch into all the things I want to tell her when she says, “Did you just propose on a napkin with a ring you stuffed in a guy’s eye hole?”
I blink. My mouth opens. Nothing comes out for a moment that feels about as long as eternity.
“You know, it seemed pretty cute in my head, but in hindsight…maybe it’s too much?”
She shakes her head.
“Not enough?”
She shakes it again, a few tears jostling free of her lashes.
“Just right?”
“It’s fucking perfect,” she sobs.
“Oh thank Christ.” A long breath whooshes from my lungs as I press my palm to my chest. I clasp my hand over hers, the ring clutched in her shaking grip. “I thought for a minute that I had royally fucked it up.”