Page 90 of The Publicity Stunt

“Sit with me?”

“Huh?”

Taking two long steps, I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the empty space next to me. “Sit with me? Please?”

April eyes me with a narrowed gaze. “What are you smiling about?”

“Lots of things.”

She smiles back and instead of sitting next to me, plonks herself right onto my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. ”I still can’t believe this is happening. The fucking Holy Grail of Comic-Cons.”

My grin widens.

“Do you think I should carry my copy ofExcaliburto get it signed?”

I love her so much. And more than anything, I love that this is what’s bothering her.

“Maybe I can be Vanessa Carlysle on the third day. The third day’s pretty lame anyway. No one gives a shit—”

“Marry me,” I blurt.

Her hand drops from my shoulder, but her gaze stays fixed to mine. “What?”

“Marry me.”

A hysterical giggle flies out her mouth. “Wh-what are you saying?”

“I love you.”

She looks even more bewildered than before. “I love you too.”

I reach up and stroke her cheek with infinite tenderness. “You’re my best friend.”

“You are too,” she mumbles.

“Then marry me.”

April attempts to frantically scramble off my lap, but my arms tighten around her hips, holding her in place. “I’m not sure what’s happening right now,” she says.

“I’m asking you to marry me.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

April blinks at me. “Why?”

“Because I wanna be with you.”

“You are with me,” she says.

“I wanna be with you forever, Chere,” I clarify. “Through the tough times, happy times, all of it. I wanna fall asleep with you and wake up next to you. I wanna rewatch every Marvel movie with you. I wanna go to Comic-Con with you for the rest of my life. And if today has taught me anything, it’s that being with you will always guarantee me a spot at the SDCC. I wanna get drunk with you and go out for two a.m. froyo and make a hundred babies with you,” I say, immediately hurrying to add, “Not in that order.” I loop my arm around her waist and press my lips against her forehead. “I just … I want to be with you.”

When she finally speaks, her voice comes out low and hesitant. “You’re serious.”

“I never joke about making babies.”

She brings her palms to my chest and pulls back slightly. “We can’t get married.”