Page 106 of Merry Me
See…this was how celebrity gossip got a bad name.
“She loves me,” Easton said to them, to me, to no one in particular. “She’s just stubborn.”
And then he dove straight into the chaos like he was born in it—signing autographs, posing for selfies, answering questions like this was all perfectly normal. Like confessing your lifelong love in front of half the mall was just another stop on the holiday shopping tour.
And every few seconds, his eyes flicked back to me.
Checking.
Reassuring.
Making sure I was still okay.
And against all logic…against every overthinking impulse screaming in the back of my head.
I was.
EASTON
Once I’d signed the last autograph, I turned back to the crowd—only to realize it wasn’t the last.
What had started as a small, excitable group of teenage girlshad snowballed into a full-on mob. A wall of people stretched from the food court to the atrium, pressing in tighter with every passing second. We were surrounded by a rising tide of shrieks and laughter. “Easton!” was shouted from every direction, some voices shaky with nerves, others bold, paired with their phone cameras held high.
I felt Natalie tense beside me, her hand still in mine, her grip tight enough to make my fingers ache. She’d been quiet while I signed autographs, her blue eyes darting between me and the fans, but I could feel a storm brewing inside her.
I glanced at her, searching her face for a clue to what she was feeling, but her expression was unreadable—a mix of fire and something softer, something vulnerable. I was sure she’d imagined this moment before, but living it was something else entirely.
I shifted closer, curling an arm around her waist and tugging her against me. “Thanks, everyone,” I called out, my voice carrying above the swell of noise. “I really appreciate the love, but we’re trying to finish some holiday shopping…so we’re gonna need some space. You guys are great.”
For a heartbeat, the crowd seemed to hesitate. A few fans stepped back, nodding sheepishly.
But the spell broke fast.
“Just one more selfie!”
“Easton, wait! What about your new movie?”
“Are you and her really dating?”
Someone grabbed my sleeve. Another person tried to shove a notebook into my hand, their pen bouncing off my chest. A girl lunged closer, clutching my coat. “Please! Just one?—”
A mall security guard appeared out of nowhere, wheezing like he’d sprinted from the food court. “Okay, okay, back it up! Everyone needs to—uh—maintain a…safe perimeter?” His voice cracked on the last word, and he flailed his arms like he was directing traffic with zero authority.
No one listened.
“Shit,” I muttered, grabbing Natalie tighter.
The corridor was swelling with people, a crush of bodies and noise and winter coats closing in from all sides. Phones were raised like torches, fans pressing closer with every breath, their voices climbing above the holiday music.
I tightened my grip on Natalie, my body shielding her from the encroaching mob. The shopping bags in her other hand rustled as she shifted, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Fuck.
Her eyes locked on mine, wild and blazing, and I didn’t wait.
“Run.”
We broke into a sprint, weaving through a tangle of holiday shoppers and glittering decorations like fugitives in a Christmas heist movie. I barreled past a stand of nutcrackers, clipped the edge of a candy cane display, and nearly took out a reindeer-shaped balloon. People were staring now…confused parents, wide-eyed kids, a couple of bored teenagers who immediately started recording.
“Sorry! Merry Christmas!” I shouted as we dodged a pack of rogue carolers in matching scarves.
