Page 154 of Merry Me
The clothes I’d worn for the scene were still soaked, sticking to my skin like regret. I stripped them off quickly, tugging on a dry hoodie and sweats, my movements sharp and unsteady. My fingers fumbled with the zipper like they couldn’t keep up with my thoughts.
I grabbed my keys and slammed the door behind me.
I had to get out of here.
Back to my apartment. Back to…something. A message. Her voice.
Anything to prove I hadn’t just imagined everything we’d rebuilt.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and pushed toward the exit. Outside the studio, the sound hit first—shouts, laughter, camera shutters clicking in rapid bursts.
It had become routine now.
Fans gathered outside almost every day. Word had spread about our shooting schedule, and they camped out near the barriers hoping for a photo, a wave, anything. Normally, I’d offer a quick smile, maybe stop for a selfie or two. Tonight?
I didn’t even look at them.
The crowd blurred into noise and color, voices overlapping in a frenzied chorus—“Easton! Over here!”—but none of it cut through.
I just wanted to reach my car. Call her again. Maybe leave a message this time.
Tell her I missed her. Tell her I wasn’t okay. Tell her?—
I froze.
My breath caught mid-step.
And suddenly, everything else fell away.
Because right there, just behind the barrier, half hidden in the sea of fans?—
I saw her.
Natalie.
Standing in the crowd like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she hadn’t just turned my entire reality insideout. Her blonde hair shimmered in the late afternoon light spilling through the studio gates, and her blue eyes—locked on mine—held the kind of intensity that knocked the breath clean out of my lungs.
And then I saw the sign.
A giant, glittery thing held high above her head, sparkling like it had been crafted by a lovestruck middle schooler on a sugar high. The words blazed in bold, sparkling letters:
Marry Me, Easton!
For a second, I just stared…jaw slack, heart pounding, brain trying to catch up. Then a laugh burst out of me, sharp and full and so stunned it made a few heads turn.
Because Natalie hated glittery signs.
Shemockedglittery signs.
She had once said they were the handwriting of emotional chaos.
And now she was holding one. For me.
Shock and disbelief and relief tangled in my chest, but so did something warmer and wilder…because I knew exactly what this meant.
This wasn’t just a grand gesture.
This washergrand gesture.
