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I almost laugh. “This was the first festive thing I saw in the Heights. I thought we should have it to show it doesn’t matter what’s going on around us, we can always take moments to be happy.”
Oscar sets the cookie jar on the coffee table next to the tree and then takes a seat on the couch. “Yeah, the Heights isn’t known for Christmas. I remember watching the parade on TV when I was a kid and wondering where the hell that place was because it’s nothing like this shithole.”
Brawler nods. “Our Christmases were better when my mom was actually coherent. She always made it special until Manning and my sister died. This morning, she barely got out of bed. She asked me to find my present in her closet and bring it to her. We exchanged presents right on her bed so she could go right back to sleep.”
My stomach clenches. I peek at Oscar because I know one thing he didn’t say is that he didn’t share this morning with anyone. His mother is still God knows where.
“What about you?” I ask Mag. “What were the Cottons like around Christmas?”
“Normal,” he says. “Until Dad died, of course. Everything went to shit after that.”
We stare at Johnny. He bites his lip and looks away. “Listen, I got shit for Christmas, but it was just another day in the gang to Dad. We never got sentimental about it. I would wake up to a huge present every year and then it would be back to business the next moment.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Well, we should start new traditions.”
“Well, wait a second,” Oscar says, leaning over to gaze inside the cookie jar. “You didn’t say how your Christmases were.”
I take another bite of toast and then sit next to him on the couch. “Christmas when my parents were alive were typical storybook highlights.” I shrug. “After that, I didn’t necessarily feel up to celebrating. When Mom and Dad died, so did my aspirations to do a lot of things. I’m still trying to get that back.” I swallow hard. I wish I could just come right out and say what I want to, but with Johnny here, I’m not sure we’re in that space yet. We’re getting closer and closer, but the worst thing I could do is tell him at a time when he’s not ready to hear it. It’s not just me in this anymore either. It’s the rest of the guys, too. I have to worry about them as well as myself.
“I like the idea of new traditions,” Johnny says, sitting gingerly on the couch next to me and squishing me between him and Oscar. Mag takes a chair and Brawler stays on one of the bar stools but turns it to face us. “Here,” Johnny says, grabbing his present and offering it to me.
I wipe my crumby fingers down my joggers and eye the shape of the present I’m about to open. It’s a small, rectangular box that makes my belly flip. Despite what he’s gone through in the last forty-eight hours, Johnny looks pleased to be right here in this moment. “Open it,” he urges.
I take a deep breath and rip at the shiny red packaging. It looks professionally wrapped, complete with a silver bow that I finally slip off and then pick at the tape with my fingernail. Under the wrapping paper is a small, black box.
I open it to reveal a ring.
17
“Fucking seriously?” Oscar deadpans.
My heart flutters in my chest as I stare down into the box. It’s a silver ring—or possibly white gold. A beautiful, square-cut blue sapphire sits in the middle framed on each side by small white stones. My mind tells me they’re diamonds, but I push that thought away.
“Do you like it?” Johnny asks, completely ignoring Oscar and the rising tension in the room.
“It’s beautiful,” I say. They’re the only words that came to mind, and it’s the truth. I’m almost too stunned for words.
“Prick,” Oscar mutters.
“What?” Johnny asks, finally tearing his attention from me.
“I got her a goddamn cookie jar, that’s what. Now, here you come with a fucking ring. A ring. That better be all it is because I think a few of us are going to have something to say to you if you think for one fucking second you’re about to propose to our girlfriend.”
“Calm down, Drego,” Johnny says dismissively. Flares of heat burn in his cheeks, bringing a different color to his bruised face.
I gaze up to find Oscar’s nostrils flaring. This is not a good sign. “Hey,” I say, reaching for him. “I love my cookie jar.”
His intense gaze stares me down. “No one in their right mind takes a cookie jar over a ring.”
“It’s not a competition,” Johnny says, clearly annoyed.
“Says the guy who got her a motherfucking ring. For Christmas. I’ll never be able to afford to get her a fucking ring.”
I shove the ring box back into Johnny’s hands and face Oscar completely. The tension coming off him is probably the worst I’ve seen. He’s upset. I don’t blame him. I probably would be too. I cup his gorgeous face. “Listen here, Oscar Drego. I love you. I don’t care if you can get me a cookie jar or a ring or fucking nothing. I will always love you the same.” I lick my lips and frown. “I didn’t get you guys anything. I—”
“We didn’t expect anything,” Brawler finally speaks up to reassure me. He slides his gaze over to Johnny. “We didn’t expect anyone to do anything like that.”
“As you said,” Johnny says stiffly. “She’sourgirlfriend. I should be able to get her what I want.”