It’s quite possibly the last thing I want to do: spend one-on-one time with the guy sharing Parker’s bed every night.
But then I see Parker making her way back toward the table, and I realize between dealing with Lance and facing Parker when I’m still feeling like an emotional wreck, the first is my better option.
Only I’m wrong about that. So wrong.
Lance does order the drinks, but that’s not why he wanted me to come with him.
“Hey, come here a sec,” he says, gesturing toward a less crowded part of the bar. I glance at the bartender, but, seeing as she has seven drinks to make, I’ve got absolutely zero reason not to cooperate with Lance’s weird demand.
But I should have thought of a reason. I should have thought of all the reasons.
Because Lance, the stupid asshole who once dumped Parker, pulls a small red jewelry box out of his pocket and, after glancing around to make sure nobody’s paying attention to us, opens it.
Somehow I was hoping it was earrings or a stupid pin, or something.
Instead, it’s my worst fear staring back at me.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asks, having to shout over the crowd, and it strikes me how weird this is. What kind of douche carries around an engagement ring to karaoke bar?
An engagement ring.
Parker’s getting married.
To Lance.
“I’m not going to d
o it tonight or anything,” Lance explains. “I don’t know when…I just wanted your opinion first. You know her better than anyone.”
Damn right. I do.
And fuck, she’s going to love that ring. It’s a perfect (huge) diamond with a circle of smaller diamonds around it. It’s classic but with plenty of sparkle.
The dude nailed it.
And I force myself to focus on the important thing. Her happiness.
I look at him. “She’ll love it.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, man. You don’t how nervous I was to tell you about it. I don’t think I’ll be this nervous when I ask her dad for permission. Hell, I should be asking you for permission.”
“No,” I say, glad the loudness of the bar makes it impossible for him to hear the catch in my voice. “She’s your girl. She’ll always been your girl. I just watched over her for a while.”
I no longer care about making a polite excuse, or what everyone will think about the fact that I ditch the bar without so much as a goodbye.
I go straight home and fill out every one of those Seattle business school applications.
And then I mail them. Every last one.
Chapter 31
Parker
Lance “hid” the ring in his underwear drawer.
I mean, leaving aside the cliché of it, does he really not register that I do all of the laundry? As in wash it, dry it, and put it away.
Of course I was going to find the damn ring!