“What do you think, Toby?” Riley asked, holding up her hand to show off a ring. Not just a ring. The ring. Nick blinked and took her hand to get a better look. “It’s a classic cushion-cut stone with a baguette halo set in platinum,” Wilfred explained. “It’s, uh, nice,” Nick rasped. It was more than nice. It was fucking awesome. Why was he suddenly sweating? Why was the ring so sparkly? Was there some kind of spotlight shining down on the ring like it was Taylor Swift onstage? Get a hold of yourself, dipshit. He was just having a blood sugar crash. Or a panic attack. Or a small mental break.
