“Freckles—”
I put my hand up to silence his words. “Don’t Freckles me. My boyfriend just broke up with me because you kissed me.”
His eyes meet mine. “You kissed me back.”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“So, it’s not entirely my fault.”
“Not entirely. But do me a favor and shut the hell up. You’re no longer my best friend. I’m replacing you with Clementine, and since she’s banging it out on tour with her rock star boyfriend, all I have left is you.”
“Shit, well when you put it like that, why the hell wouldn’t I want the prime position?” His gaze lowers to my lap and narrows in on the ring sparkling on my finger. “It looks good on you.”
“I know,” I say and then toy with the object in question. “It’s too much.”
“It was my grandmother’s. She said that green diamonds were her favorite because they reminded her of my eyes.”
All the air whooshes out of my lungs. “Did you just say diamond?”
He nods. “Yeah, why?”
I hold up my hand. “What is this?”
Gabe’s brow creases in confusion. “My grandmother’s ring?”
“What does it mean to you, Gabe?”
He takes a deep breath, his shoulders falling with the exhalation. “It means whatever you want it to mean. It means you’re my favorite person in the entire world, wearing the ring of a woman who was the only saving grace in my childhood. I want you to have it, and so would she.”
I smile at all that pretty. “I’m not giving it back.”
“Good.”
“Good.” I nod and then resist the urge to burst into tears. “Thank you. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He gives me a wistful smile. “Sorry I fucked up your birthday.”
I shrug. “We’re going to get drunk, Dash. We’re going to get drunk and I’m going to mourn my breakup because the man I love is moving halfway across the world to get away from me.”
He rolls his eyes and gives me an adoring smile. “He’s not moving to get away from you. Stop being so fucking dramatic.”
“I’m twenty-nine years old and I just got dumped by my boyfriend.On my birthday.”
“He couldn’t have waited a day?” he teases.
I narrow my eyes and take his glass from him, throwing back the rest of his whiskey. It doesn’t even burn this time. “Well, apparently someone forced his hand.”
“I’m sorry he caught us.”
“But you’re not sorry about the kiss?”
“Never,” he says resolutely. Gabe frowns and adds, “I’ll never be sorry for that. I am sorry he’s leaving though.”
“Liar.”
He chuckles and concedes with a nod as if he forgot for a minute that I know him. I’ve got his number, and we both know it. “I’m glad he won’t be here anymore. I’m glad I’ll have you to myself again.”
“Of course you are. You never were very good at sharing.”