Guys Like You: Book 5 of The Young and Privileged of Washington, DC

by Vivian Kohlman

  It was also where King surprised me with a gift.

  “Princess, I know we’re too young to think about forever, but I want to give you something as a constant reminder of how special you are to me. I would be incredibly happy if you would wear this, as a token of my love for you,” he said, as he opened a small box.

  It wasn't a solitary diamond, thankfully, but it was glorious. An eternity band of cushion-cut diamonds that had to be a carat each, in a platinum setting, sparkled brightly from the black velvet it sat upon. The ring glittered more than the ice flakes around us.

  I sucked in a breath when I first saw it, the sun scattering the colors around his hand.

  “Oh my gosh! It’s gorgeous!” I exclaimed as my mitten-clad hands flew to King’s head so I could pull him into a kiss. “But why? I mean this isn’t just a minor token…”

  “I know. I may have gone a little overboard. But I know your favorite number is twelve, so I wanted twelve diamonds. And when I told the jeweler what size your finger is, he said they’d have to be rather large to fit around the band perfectly. So, it is what it is. Do you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it! Thank you so much.”

  He took the ring out of the box as I peeled off the layers of gloves from my hands.

  “Look inside,” he said, handing me the ring.

  It was hard to read at first—my hands were shaking from the cold—but I made out the inscription. It read: “For eternity, A&K”.

  “King, this is so romantic and it means so much to me, you have no idea,” I said placing the ring on the ring finger of my right hand.

  “I was hoping that you’d wear it on your left hand. That has more meaning,” he said.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to put you in the friend zone,” I said removing the ring from my right hand. “And what, exactly is the meaning?”

  King took the ring from me and picked up my left hand to put the ring on my finger while he explained.

  “That I love you, and that from this day on, this finger will be wrapped in a symbol of my love.”

  I smiled, noting once again how this brute of a man can be so sweet. I looked down at my hand, now resting in his. Even though the ring looked huge in the box, it seems to be the perfect size on my long finger. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it; its beauty captivated me.

  “I’ll never take it off,” I said whimsically.

  “Yes you will,” he chuckled. “But not until it’s replaced with an engagement ring, then a wedding ring, and then, if you’d like, anniversary rings every ten or twenty years.”

  I blushed and smiled at him before leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. It was somewhat comical—the clothing we had to wear to sit here and stay warm is quite bulky and both of our lips were cold. But we kissed anyway. I wrapped my arms around him, as much as I could, and we kissed for a long, long time—first on our knees, then laying on the blanket.

  I couldn't help myself, I felt overwhelmed by love for him. We were on vacation, on a glacier, and he just gave me a beautiful—albeit extravagant—gift to remind me that he loves me.

  I know exactly how lucky I am to find the one amazingly hot guy who’s incredibly masculine and strong, yet so sweet and thoughtful too. We all know that guys like King just don’t exist in the real world, and yet he’s in my arms.

  I did wonder why he’s giving me such an excessive gift when we’ve only been dating a few months. I mean, I want to think there’s no ulterior motive, but it’s notable that King’s never got to say his peace to Miko for that little kiss cam incident…maybe this ring is King’s way of marking me as his territory. I shook that thought aside; this was too nice a gift to be given for such a trivial reason.

  Yes, we’ve been together just a few months, but we’re so close. King and I practically live together, and we spend all of our free time together. When we’re apart, we’re constantly in touch, and even after just a few hours away from him I crave his presence.

  A couple of weeks ago, he asked me to move in with him, officially. I said I’d think about it, he gave me the keys to his house, and neither of us has mentioned it since. But here on the glacier, feeling like it was just he and I in our own big world together, I felt the need to take the leap—all of this came together as we were kissing.

  I put my cold hands on the side of his face and separated our lips so I could speak to him. “King, when we return to the States, I’ll make it official. I’ll move in with you, if you still want me to,” I said.

  He smiled whole-heartedly and he tightened his grip on me.

  “Thank you,” he said before kissing me again. “But you know I didn’t give you that ring with any expectations, right?”

  “I know. I’ve been thinking about moving in since you asked me. It just feels like the right time to make the decision. And really, I’m with you all the time anyway, so I really don’t see why I shouldn’t just move some more clothes and things to your place. So yes, I’ll move in with you, officially.”

  “Good. It’ll make things easier—at least it’ll lessen the trips to your parents house to exchange clothes,” he joked. He kissed my cheeks, and my forehead, and then all over my face before putting his forehead against mine. “I’m yours, Ava…and I always will be.”

  Chapter 5

  Later that night we went to a local bar that’s on the main strip in downtown Reykjavik. I hadn't taken my ring off once—not in the shower, and not even while putting lotion on my hands, making the diamonds cloudy. I cleaned it afterward, of course.

  “So, babe, I just have to get something off my mind,” I started. The idea that he gave me this ring to show Miko that I’m his never left the back of my mind.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Did that ridiculous kiss cam incident cause you to give me this ring?”

  He smirked at me.

  “Do you think I’d be passive-aggressive?”

  “I don’t really know what to think. I’m just asking if maybe you want to mark your territory a little more clearly.”

  “That I do, but Miko kissing you has nothing to do with it. I met with the jeweler before that little stunt.”

  “Good,” I said, happy to believe him. But something still wasn’t right. “Speaking of the kiss cam picture. Who sent it to you? I never asked.”

  He was silent, and just looked me in the eyes for a minute. He took a sip of his drink before putting both of his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. I had a feeling I was going to learn something interesting.

  “I sent security to watch over you that night.”

  “You what?”

  “I’m sorry for not telling you. You ladies were going to have a very public night and it was just a little too soon from me calling off your security detail. I just wanted to know you’d be taken care of, if anything went awry.”

  “You know what? I had a feeling you were going to spy on me, but I never saw any of the bodyguards I’m used to,” I said.

  “No. No I wasn’t spying on you, Ava. That was never my intention.”

  “But it was the result, wasn’t it?”

  “Princess, I promise you, I never asked the guys to spy on you. He was watching close when your friends left and Miko arrived, and they took a film of him for the record—the kiss was on that clip. They sent me an update every hour or so; the clip was in one of their updates.”

  “What else is being recorded, King? Do you have cameras in the house? In my car? Am I still being followed?” My imagination started to spiral out of control.

  “Calm down, babe. Take a deep breath. Nothing crazy is going on, I swear it. After that night, after the fight we got in when you got home, I haven’t assigned security to you again.”

  “Do you swear you’re being honest?”

  “I swear. I promise you. You are not being followed, watched, or anything else…and you never will be again, unless I tell you about it in advance. OK?”

  “OK, babe. So, again…the ring is not related to that?
”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good.”

  As I took a sip of beer I noticed how my ring sparkled brightly; so did King. His eyes moved to mine and a slight smile crept up on his face. I know he likes seeing his ring on my hand—this must be some male ego thing.

  “I love seeing that ring on your finger,” he said.

  I giggled at the idea that his mind was going in the same direction as mine. “Me, too, babe. It’s a bit ostentatious, though, isn't it? I kind of feel strange wearing it out to a local bar.”

  “Princess, we do what the fuck we want. If you wanted the Hope diamond instead, I would find a way to get it for you and expect you to wear it no matter where we are,” he said with a reassuring smile. “But don’t worry about it; Reykjavik is a capital city and the ring doesn’t stand out too much. Not to mention that it’s on the finger of an eighteen year old girl; I’m sure most people think they’re just crystals.”

  “Good. I don't want to take it off,” I said smugly.

  I put my beer down and admired the ring again. It is absolutely gorgeous. This gift means so much to me—more than the carats of diamonds and whatever a jeweler would charge for it. It means I have King, and he wants everyone to know it.

  I’ve never been one to think a guy could buy your love, and I don’t think that’s what he’s trying to do. He went out of his way to have this made for me. That’s no easy task; it’s not the same as walking into a store and buying something already available. This is personal. It’s so romantic, and so thoughtful.

  “Shit,” King said, pulling me out from my dreamy state, while he stared at his phone. “Giorgio’s manager contacted my trainer to schedule a fight. And he’s not going under the radar with this, like I thought they would.”

  “So, just decline,” I suggested.

  He paused, and looked around the restaurant, trying to gather his thoughts.

  “No. If I do, he’ll continue to disrupt our lives. And frankly, our first fight is the only fight I’ve lost. I want another shot to break the tie. It’s better that I just agree and get this over with,” he said while putting the phone back on the table. “I don't like the idea of fighting a guy like this; he’s all about the game. But this time I’ll end it, once and for all.”

  I knew this was coming—we all knew Giorgio was going to request a fight again, we just didn’t know when. What concerns me is that King hasn't been training much and he’s not mentally into it. It’s very hard to imagine, but he just might lose, or worse. He may get hurt.

  “When’s the fight?” I asked.

  “New Year’s Eve.”

  Well, at least that gives him a couple of months to get in top fighting form.

  “Babe, I encourage you to say no to this fight. You would not be doing this because you really want to, you’d just be proving a point and—hopefully—get this guy off our back. It’s not worth it.”

  “It’s worth it to me. Don't worry about this, Princess. I’ll kick his ass.”

  I smiled at his confidence.

  “Then you better start training. You’ve been slacking a bit lately,” I teased.

  “I know. But I’ve had you to focus on. And that’s not going to change,” he said staring into my eyes, as if he was trying to pass information to me through osmosis.

  “I’ll help you. Whatever you need or want from me—apart from me actually working out myself, of course—I’ll do.”

  “Thank you. But I’m sure this won’t be an annoyance for you. They want to get on the roster for Las Vegas. So at least we can make it a New Year’s getaway.”

  “In Vegas? That’s one of those big fight nights that are on pay-per-view and all the stars attend, right?” I asked with wonder.

  “Yep. Obviously, our fight is one of the beginning ones that no one watches or pays attention to, but yes. I’ll have to do press events and shit like that before and after.”

  “Wow. So my boyfriend’s going to be famous,” I joked.

  He didn't appreciate my humor. He scowled and looked away.

  “Fifteen minutes of fame is not what I want. But sometimes you have to do things to quell a situation. The next couple of months will be focused on training, but if all goes well, it’ll be over on New Years and we can start the next year fresh. No looking over our shoulder, no security…or less, at least.”

  “That sounds good to me. Just let me know what I can do to make things easier for you, King. And be honest.”

  He didn't say anything at first; he just bore his eyes into my soul. I didn't understand his expression—it looked angry, with a hint of admiration.

  My eyes locked with his and I couldn’t look away or say anything; I felt the weight of his stare through my body. I thought about how many times we just stared at each other; I swear it’s part of our daily conversation. Eventually he moved his eyes from mine and took a sip of his drink.

  “I’d like nothing more than for you to be involved in all of this, and with me as much as possible until this is all over. Not only for my own sanity, but so I have a constant reminder of why I’m going to fight this guy. I want to not worry about you all the time, and since a few days after we got together this shit has been plaguing us. This has to end. I’m not going to sign this deal until Giorgio agrees to some other terms first. I want to be sure that no matter how this fight plays out, as long as I enter the ring and fight him, he will forget about us afterward, or there will be consequences.”

  “Consequences?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’ll agree to whatever I ask—not only because he’ll have the chance to get even with me, but it’s pretty obvious he’s trying to get publicity and whatever money comes out of this fight. I hear he’s been planning to enter the professional fighting world, and I’m sure he’s using this fight as his way in. I’ll work with my lawyer when we get back.”

  ~~~~

  “What the hell is that?” My dad roared when he saw the ring on my finger.

  Maybe this is bad timing.

  King and I came to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving Dinner—it’s the first time I’ve seen them since we got home from our Iceland trip because they were on vacation in Asia for the last few weeks. I intended to let them know I’m moving in with King tonight, but maybe this is too much at once.

  My staying at King’s almost every night, the trips to UAE and Iceland with him, the ring—and now I’m supposed to tell them that I’m moving out? Probably not a good idea.

  “Calm down, dad. It’s just a token of his affection. We’re not getting married, or anything,” I explained.

  King put his drink on the coffee table. I wasn’t sure how this conversation was going to go, but the tension in the room was stifling.

  “That’s not a token, those diamonds are huge. You’re eighteen years old, Ava Kristina! You are way too young to go around town with that on your finger.”

  He’s mad—whenever he uses my middle name, I know he’s very angry with me. I smiled sweetly at him and batted my eyes innocently.

  “Daddy, calm down. I know it’s a bit much, but I love it…” I started to explain, but King cut me off.

  “I wanted to give her something to prove I’m committed to her. It’s nothing more than that,” King explained further.

  My dad took a deep breath.

  “Committed? Why would you spend tons of money to tell a teen-aged girl that you’re committed? You’re what, twenty-two? Three?” my dad asked, with his voice as serious and calm as his anger would allow.

  “I love your daughter very much. I wanted her to have something special, and this is what the jeweler and I came up with. I may have gotten a little carried away,” King explained calmly.

  “A little,” my dad said under his breath. He took another deep breath and looked at me. I smiled at him, trying to relay the idea that everything is OK. He knows King is wealthier than most boys I’ve dated, but I guess he doesn’t understand the extent of it.

  “I’m sorry for over reacting, but you tw
o have taken this very fast. I just assumed…”

  “Sir, when we get to that point, you’ll be the second to know, after me. We won’t surprise you,” King said with a reassuring smile on his face.

  “That’s quite a token, Knox. Trust me, our little Ava doesn't need to be spoiled any more than she is,” my mother teased, while she held my left hand in her own.

  Luckily, there was a knock at the door—this is a conversation I saw no need to continue.

  Preston and his boyfriend arrived; we had invited them over for a pre-Thanksgiving Dinner chat. Preston was home for the holiday and brought his boyfriend, Julian, home to meet his family. Not surprisingly, they’re both very nervous.

  So he wanted an excuse to get out of the house. My parents asked how he was and they caught up, then I asked him and Julian to go downstairs so we can share a bottle of wine. I’m sure he needed to relax without the parental unit around.

  My parents were busy with Thanksgiving dinner, so they didn’t mind us heading downstairs. We closed the door behind us and I told the guys to grab a seat in the sitting area while I opened a bottle of wine, then I grabbed a few glasses and joined them.

  “So…? Do you two have something to announce?” Preston asked, throwing a look in the direction of my left hand.

  “No, no. It’s just a gift,” I huffed while rolling my eyes like a drama queen. “I tried to put it on my right hand, but…”

  “The right hand doesn’t mean the same thing,” King chimed in.

  It’s sort-of an inside joke with us—the true meaning of the ring and how everyone thinks we’re engaged or married. If I didn’t drink alcohol so much, I’m sure half our friends would be betting on the sex of the baby.

  Since we returned from Iceland a lot of my friends kind-of freaked out over the ring. At first, they all complained that we were moving too fast, but when I calmed their nerves they admitted it was an awesome gift. The only person King told in advance that he was giving me this ring was Claudia, so even the guys were caught by surprise. And honestly, I don’t think there’s a single friend that didn’t notice it within a few minutes, or hear about it from someone else.