Page 91 of The Publicity Stunt

My brows knit together in a frown. “Why not?”

“Because.” Her eyes dart around the room. “We just finished college.”

“So?”

“We’re twenty-two,” she emphasizes. “Is that even old enough to get married? I killed a succulent last week, Parker.”

“We can always get a new one.”

“No one gets married this young.”

I shrug. “We could.”

“I just got a job. I-I—” Her expression is a peculiar combination of amused and disbelief. “Parker, if this is a joke, I’m going to kick you in the balls so hard.”

I laugh. “It’s not a joke, I promise.”

“It isn’t?”

My hand tangles in her hair to bring her forehead to mine. “April Moore, will you marry me?”

“Does your mom know?”

“Yes, she does.”

“And my parents?”

I nod.

“Holly?”

I asked April’s parents for their permission a few months back. It took a bit of convincing, and reassurance that their daughter wasn’t pregnant. Eventually they agreed. Her mom even teared up a little.

Holly Moore, however, did no such thing. All she did was threaten to cut my dick off if I ever broke April’s heart.

I’d be scared, but Holly’s said that to me so many times, the threat has lost all meaning.

“What, you think I have a death wish? Of course, Holly knows, Chere.”

A breath escapes her lips and she swallows once. “You want to … marry me?”

“I want to marry you. Do you wanna marry me?”

“Right now?”

“Preferably not. I mean, I still have to get you a ring.”

At this, April’s eyes widen. “A ring?”

“And you still have to say yes.”

“Yes,” she blurts.

“What?”

A faint smile touches April’s mouth. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

I should be doing fucking cartwheels or backflips or something. Did she just say yes? Did this just happen? Am I breathing? I can’t tell.