Page 103 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition

I’m confident that she won’t run away from me today.

This show is thirty-five minutes long. We’ve learned about astronomy and dark matter and where we fit in the universe. We’ve learned about all the stars in the Milky Way, and we’re coming to the end of the presentation.

Ryder is sitting to the left of me. He knows what’s up, and so far, he’s keeping the secret like a champ. I glance over at Emilia, to my right. She nudges her glasses up the bridge of her nose and then places her forearm back on the armrest between us. Looking back up at the screen, I lift my hand and gently stroke the skin of that V between her index and middle finger with my fingertip. She shivers. Her thighs clench together, as I knew they would. And I can see them clenching together because she’s wearing jeans instead of that crazy pink skirt this time. I stroke the space between her ring and middle finger now, all the way down to her wrist.

Moving my hand away from her, I reach inside my pocket. The classical music soundtrack reaches a crescendo and then becomes soothing again. And that’s when I slide a diamond ring onto her ring finger while she’s taking in a deep, calming breath and looking up at the domed night sky.

I could not have directed this scene—or her reaction—better.

The way her head subtly jerks my way and then tilts down to stare at her hand.

The way she lifts her left hand to examine it and covers her mouth with her right one.

Her widened, watery blue eyes as they meet mine.

The way she nods and grabs my face to kiss it.

The first of sixty-five million kisses.

At the end of the movie and the new beginning of our lives together.

“Yes,” she says into my ear. “Yes.”

Ryder taps on her arm, wanting to see the ring on her finger.

She shows him and then reaches across my lap to grab his face and kiss it too.

He still pretends to hate it when she does that, but I know he loves it almost as much as I do.

She’s the big bang. The big picture. The biggest dork we know. And every little magical thing that reminds me we’re made of stardust—old as the universe and new as each breath.

Miss Stiles is about to get married—eventually—Vega-style.

EPILOGUE ONE

EMILIA: Hi. How are you? I’m naked.

ALEX: I’m a little busy, but I require proof of nakedness. Also, Shane’s about to do an important scene so I have to pretend to watch. Why are you doing this to me when I’m on set, devil woman?

EMILIA: Text me when you’re on a break. In your trailer. With the door locked and the windows covered. And don’t forget to check your backpack because I put a bottle of unscented lotion in there.

ALEX: You’re getting really good at this.

EMILIA: Or am I getting really bad…at this?

EMILIA: Never mind. Pretend I didn’t send that last text.

ALEX: I’ll never let you forget it. But I still want proof.

EMILIA:

ALEX: Fuuuuuck, babe. Cut and print.

ALEX: Now Shane’s gonna think I’m aroused by his performance. This could get awkward.

EMILIA: Or dirty. Really dirty.

ALEX: Okay, I’m putting you on a timeout, young lady. Back to work.