Chapter Three
“They stood there pretending to be just friends when all the while everyone in the room could plainly see that they were only existing for each other.”
Emma Blake
Ivy
I stared out the plane’s window as we descended, watching the snow dusting the ground below. I was home. Normally, my heart would burst with comfort and joy. Instead, it pounded relentlessly.
It didn’t help that Jack was holding my hand, his fingers warm, inviting—too present. Or that across the aisle, Sienna sat stiffly, her nails pressing into the leather armrest, her glare burning into me like frostbite. She’d been that way the entire uncomfortable flight.
Of course, that dear was in first class, too.
The entire flight, Jack and I hardly spoke. My thoughts consumed me as I spiraled, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. More like what Jack had gotten me into, and I’d idiotically agreed to.
But Sienna’s condescension had gotten to me. You think I didn’t know that I wasn’t some Hollywood siren? Believe me, I was well aware.
And I knew Jack and I didn’t belong together romantically.
Sienna was right—we didn’t fit. At least the Mr. Holiday aspect of him and I didn’t.
That part of him and I didn’t fit as lovers.
In every other aspect, we were a perfect match.
He was the yang to my yin. That was what made us such great friends.
All these realizations over the years had kept me grounded and cemented my belief that Jack and I would never be anything more than what we were. Okay, and yes, I was bound and determined to prove him wrong about men and women. But that was just the icing on the cake.
The real truth was, if Jack and I ever became something more, we wouldn’t last—his world would swallow me whole and spit me out without a second thought. And all it would leave us with was regret. I refused to let that happen.
Our worlds were just too different.
Tonight proved that. I heard the whispers and saw the gaping looks as people passed us by. Each set of eyes asked the same thing: Why would Mr. Holiday choose her over someone like Sienna?
Normally, he wouldn’t. I was just the means to the end of his relationship with her. Not to say I wasn’t glad he was finally moving on from her. I just wished it didn’t involve me having to pretend to be in a fake relationship with my best friend.
Because, if anything, our friendship was the least fake thing in my life.
The brush of Jack’s thumb across my skin had me holding my breath. It felt nice—almost too nice. I had to remind myself that Jack was an actor, literally the Golden Globe–winning kind. He was playing a part, and dang, if he wasn’t good at it.
I was no actress, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to sell this fake relationship of ours to, not only the public, but my family. All I wanted was a quiet family Christmas. Now, it was going to feel like some freak show on parade, and I was the freak.
The plane’s wheels hit the tarmac, and I flinched, squeezing Jack’s hand. Flying wasn’t my favorite.
“It’s all right,” Jack whispered intimately in my ear. “I’ve got you.”
Those words warmed me—but only in a friendly way, of course. I turned, forcing myself to meet his pretty face. I’d avoided it as much as possible during the flight, worried I couldn’t pull off the adoring gaze of a girlfriend—fake or otherwise.
Swooning wasn’t exactly my forte. At least not overtly.
I showed affection in more subtle ways, like remembering the details of conversations and knowing when to give a man I was interested in his space.
Of course, I did the “girl” things—playing with a guy’s hair, laughing at his jokes.
But I’d never mastered fluttering lashes or fake giggles.
Jack, on the other hand, had the fake adoring gaze down to an art. The moment our eyes met, he hit me with his best performance of the night. He was so good at it, my breath hitched. And dang it, if he didn’t notice. The corners of his lips twitched, knowing he’d pulled one over on me.
Yes, bravo, he was an award-winning actor. And of course, I was physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?
Before I could say something snarky, I remembered I had a part to play, too—especially since Sienna was tuned into us like we were the only channel on TV. She hated this show, but she was going to watch it through to the bitter end.
There was no doubt about the finale she wanted—heartache and a gut-wrenching breakup.
That got me thinking—how were we supposed to end this charade? Jack and I really needed to set a breakup date. I supposed we should discuss that in private.
For tonight, though, I refused to give Sienna the satisfaction. No, tonight she was getting The Ivy and Jack Show—on steroids.
I lovingly placed a hand on Jack’s cheek, which was painted with the perfect amount of stubble that was just a shade darker than his golden-brown hair.
“You always know the right things to say.”
Jack smiled, took my hand, and kissed my palm as the plane smoothly taxied to the gate. The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, reminding passengers to stay seated with seat belts fastened until we came to a complete stop.
Meanwhile, my heart accidentally skipped a beat. Dang, Jack was good. Too good. His warm lips against my skin and the sultry way he looked at me—it was straight out of one of his movie scripts. It was no wonder all his leading ladies fell for him. He could fake infatuation like no one’s business.
But I wasn’t his leading lady, and I sure as heck would not fall for him. I was only trying to prove a point to Sienna. The point being that, although she was more beautiful, popular, and well-loved than me, it didn’t give her the right to treat me like I was less . . . or to assume Jack was hers.
He wasn’t mine, either, but she didn’t need to know that right now—especially when I peeked around Jack to find she was so green with envy, she could give the Grinch a run for his money.
I quickly averted my gaze to avoid making eye contact with her.
Growing up in a mountain town, you were told from a young age never to make eye contact with a wild animal—it was always seen as a threat. I didn’t feel it was best to poke the beast.
Jack and I had already given her plenty of reasons to strike. I had no doubt she would—I just didn’t know when or where.
“Are you sure you’re ready for all the holiday cheer that’s about to ensue?” I asked Jack.
He really had no idea what he’d signed up for when he said he wanted to come home for the holidays with me.
“Absolutely,” he said confidently, but I could see the way his brows gathered together to form a V just above his nose. That small crease told another story—he was concerned.
He wasn’t the only one.
“So . . . how exactly do we tell my parents that we’re, uh—you know, together?” I whispered, pulling Jack closer.
My parents were picking me up at the airport any minute now. They loved the airport scene. It was a holiday tradition for them, and they always showed up in Santa hats and made a cute little sign with my name on it, like I was some VIP. To them, I was.
Little did they know I was bringing along a real VIP and just how much of a show they were about to get. Now, I wished I hadn’t decided to surprise them.
It was honestly for selfish reasons that I had. I didn’t want them to get all worked up about Jack coming and forget about me. And I had half expected Jack to back out. Who would have guessed this twist in the plot?
We really should’ve figured out our “backstory” earlier—preferably before takeoff—but I’d been too afraid someone might overhear. Someone who looked like she’d shaved a collie and worn it as a coat. Okay, that was petty, but it needed to be said.
Jack took the opportunity to brush a strand of my hair back before slipping his arms around me. I’d never realized how touchy-feely he was.
“We tell them you couldn’t resist me, and I—being the nice guy I am—just gave in,” he murmured, just for my ears.
“You’re hilarious. Say that, and you might as well book a flight home now.”
Jack flashed his signature smirk. “How’s this? I tell them that from the first moment I saw you, I knew you were the woman for me, and I was lucky enough to finally convince you to give me a chance.”
“Wow. That’s actually sweet,” I said, caught off guard. “You know—if it were true.”
Honestly? If I didn’t know better, I might have believed it.
Jack dropped his arms. “I do know how to be sweet,” he said, sounding almost offended.
I squeezed his cheeks. “You have your moments,” I teased, sing-songing the words.
Sienna let out an exaggerated “Ugh,” loud enough to make sure we heard. Apparently, she wasn’t a fan of our pretend coziness.
For that, I almost wanted to plant a kiss on Jack’s lips. Almost.
But that was one thing we were definitely not doing—kissing.
Kissing was a gateway drug to bad decisions.
Believe me, I had firsthand experience there.
All it takes is one good-looking man, and if he’s any good at kissing, suddenly everything he says starts to sound amazing.
And I was smart enough to know that Jack would be a world-champion kisser.
I’d seen his technique on the big screen.
And . . . He. Was. Good.
Friends and kissing don’t mix. Or at least they shouldn’t.
Once you kiss your friend, there’s no going back.
And I needed Jack and me to go back to who we really were—the best friends ever.
I had to keep that part of us safe, and not just because I wanted to prove him wrong about men and women.
It was because I didn’t want to lose him in my life.
As soon as we reached our gate, the usual disembarking chaos erupted.
Everyone was in a hurry to leave—even Jack, who jumped right up to grab our carry-on luggage from the overhead compartment.
I was equal-parts torn. I was tired of everyone on the flight watching me—especially Sienna. But the thought of facing my family—and lying to them—made me want to stay on the plane forever.