"I regret no suggestion I have ever made since the beginning of time," Richie corrected -- and it was Very Not True, but in this moment he was sticking to his guns, standing by the point he made. Not just because it would be hilarious, but mostly because, yeah, it'd be hilarious.
Richie'd always liked a good inside joke, too. So if he was ever awarded a hand towel with his last name written on it, he'd think it was fucking hilarious and Eddie most likely would not. Even better.
Richie all but slammed his credit card on the counter and then told the woman behind it what size he needed and what he wanted engraved into the inside of the ring, begged it all to be done on a rush job because he, like, really needed it today. They could go somewhere else while they waited - Richie had to get his cover story sweaters still, after all. "He knows," Richie said, of telling Eddie how he felt. At least, he assumed he knew. They'd talked about it a little. This whole thing. Maybe he needed something more grand. More well spoken. Richie didn't really know. He'd figure it out.
"That was rough," he said after a beat. "Let me buy you lunch."