Page 81 of Nacho Boyfriend

“Right.” I say. “Compromiso.”

Abuela narrows her eyes at me and takes the ring out of the box herself, pressing it into my hand.

¿Cómo puede ser un compromiso sin anillo? Andalé. Ponlo en su dedo, muchacho.”

“Yeah, Nacho,” says Nate. “Put it on.”

“Put the ring on,” bellows Mateo. “Do it.”

Memo grunts, “Do it,” with his Emperor Palpatine impersonation.

Tío Enrique pipes in. “¡Pónle lo!”

Pretty soon my whole family is shouting at me, and rumbling. Francesca is the only one raising her voice in my favor.

“Don’t pressure him,” she cries, but she’s drowned out by everyone else.

Sebastian starts chanting, “Put it on, put it on.”

Mateo jumps on that, just because he enjoys a chant, I think.

Olive’s looking at me bewildered.

The noise level is getting out of hand, even for my family—which is saying a lot.

Then, on top of the hullabaloo, a sharp whistle cuts through the noise, and everyone turns to see Abuelo removing his fingers from his mouth.

“¡Callense!”

He doesn't even bother to wade through the sea of bodies to reach me. He just flicks his hand and shakes his head.

“No lo presionen, barbosos.”

And as he hobbles back to the house, he murmurs, “I don’t have time para estas tonterias.”

Abuela dismisses him with a wave of her hand and glares at me expectantly. I look at Olive, attempting to read her features. I lean to her until we’re touching cheek to cheek.

“Your call.”

“Go ahead,” she whispers. “I have a feeling they’ll never leave us alone if we don’t play along.”

“More play acting?” I whisper in return.

She chuckles. “What’s the harm in one more ruse?”

“I’ll fix this,” I say.

Her eyes slice to mine playfully. “I’ve heard that before.”

Man, I love this woman. I kiss her on the forehead and pass the Altoids tin to Nate so I can have use of two hands. Fixing my gaze on Olive’s, I slide the ring on her finger and my heart flip-flops. She’s looking at me with slushy eyes now, and I just want to wrap her up and keep her under my arm. But I content myself with a quiet kiss on her lips, which is met with a round of applause from my shamelessly obtrusive family.

Then, out of the clatter and fanfare, Nate exclaims at the top of his lungs, “Why is there a dead scorpion in the Altoids?”