Chapter 22 – Eden
EDEN
January
The first time I see Luke again in person, it’s in Maura’s kitchen, surrounded by all our friends and a massive pile of vegetables.
“Whose resolution are we doing this for again?” Brinley complains. “I’ve chopped like a thousand carrots already.”
“Me,” Ryan says proudly. “I’m getting into meal prep in the new year.”
“I’m doing this for Maura, not Ryan,” Pippa says. “She deserves a fully stocked freezer for after the baby’s born.”
“I want everyone going home with enough good, healthy food for the week,” Beau says. “There are enough of us here that there’s no reason we can’t hit that goal.”
Luke leans toward me. “I thought this was supposed to be a casual hangout. How did we get stuck peeling potatoes?”
“Because Beau hijacked us with root vegetables the second we walked through the door, and you’re still scared to start another fight with him,” I say.
“I’m not scared,” Luke scoffs.
“Please. Beau weighs like fifty pounds more than you do. If he really threw a punch at you, you’d be on the ground.”
“If he could land it. I’m scrappy, you know. Quick, too.”
I raise my brows. “You really want to brag about being quick?”
Luke smiles delightedly, sending butterflies into my stomach. “Wow. If that was a jab about my stamina, then I’m impressed. I didn’t know dirty jokes were in your repertoire.”
“If you catch me on the right day, I can be absolutely filthy.”
“I’d like to see that.” Luke’s voice drops low, playfully suggestive. I can’t help but respond in kind.
“I think you already have. You were one of my subscribers, remember?”
Luke inhales sharply. “Yeah. I remember. I really fucking remember.”
His spare hand—the one not holding a potato—brushes against my lower back, making me shiver. He lingers there for a moment so the heat of his hand burns through my thin sweater. He must feel me shiver.
I’ve almost forgotten where we are when he holds up a scrap of potato skin.
“This got stuck on your shirt,” he says.
My face burns red. “Thanks.”
How could I forget that I’m surrounded by my friends, the ones who think Luke and I are nothing? The ones with no idea about that damn Christmas Eve kiss?
When I glance up, Beau’s staring at me. If he’s been watching us, there’s no way Luke’s potato skin excuse will convince him that we’re doing anything other than flirting. I quickly look away, only to find that Maura’s staring at me, too.
Shit.
A month ago, I was afraid of people catching on that our relationship was fake. Now, I have to worry about them finding out that some small part of it is real. Somehow, that feels harder than any other performance I’ve had to do so far.
I decide the best strategy is distraction. I turn to Pippa next to me and ask, “How was your Christmas?”
She shrugs. “It was fine. We spent it with James and Maura. Watched a couple of shitty Christmas movies and went to bed early.”
I immediately regret asking her. I forgot that things were still tense between her, Ryan, and their families.
Ryan’s father hasn’t exactly taken well to his son dating his stepsister.
Even though they’ve had a few tentative conversations, they’re at the beginning of the road for fixing their relationship.
“Wait, what Christmas movie are you calling shitty?” Luke asks. “Because if you’re trash-talking the Grinch, I’m going to need to step up and defend my green brother.”
Just like that, Luke has smoothed over the bump in the conversation. He’s good at that, riding the ups and downs of social situations, making everyone feel comfortable. Normally, as an event planner, I’m the one doing that. It’s nice to know that he has my back in that.
“Pippa won’t let me watch the live-action Grinch,” Ryan pipes up. “She says it’s too horny.”
“What about the Grinch is horny?” Beau asks, sounding horrified.
“Ooo, Pips, do you have a thing for the Grinch?” Cat jokes. “I get it. He’s got his own place, and he’s tall. Plus, his grumpy exterior hides a heart that grew three sizes.”
“You basically just described Nate,” Maura points out.
“I do not have a thing for the Grinch!” Pippa cries. “When I say the live-action Grinch is horny, I’m talking about Christine Baranski. She spends half the movie running around in a corset and a push-up bra!”
“Looking sexy as hell,” Ryan says.
“And that’s why I wouldn’t let you watch it. I didn’t want you creeping on Martha May Whovier on James and Maura’s couch. You’re welcome, by the way,” she says to James.
“I genuinely appreciate it,” he says solemnly.
The conversation quickly devolves into the horniest Christmas movies. Even though Beau implores everyone to keep chopping while they talk, almost everyone starts waving vegetables around to help them make their points.
“Bing Crosby is a perfectly normal first crush!”
“Zooey Deschanel was hotter as a blonde in Elf!”
“Hear me out: Frosty the Snowman.”
Eventually, everyone except Beau agrees to abandon the meal prep project in favor of watching Die Hard on the couch.
“I feel a little bad,” I confess to Brinley. “Beau’s stuck chopping all that by himself. Should I offer to go help?”
“Nah,” she says. “He might complain, but he loves chopping. He’d rather be in the kitchen with his veggies than snuggling on the couch with his girlfriend, because he’s a little freak.”
“I appreciate that,” Luke says as he sits down on my other side. “Even though I generously accept that you and Beau are dating now, I still would rather not watch your shameless PDA all the time.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t be such a grump about it if you had a girlfriend for once,” Brinley shoots back.
“Hey! Eden is right here.” Luke puts his arm around me to make a point, reminding me of the last time he was this close to me, in a secret hallway, kneeling between my legs. My face heats, and I curl my hands into tight fists, willing myself to stop blushing.
“Eden doesn’t count,” Brinley says. “She was your fake pity girlfriend after—”
“—After you ruined my reputation with your column?” There’s no bitterness in Luke’s voice now. It’s the first time I’ve heard him bring up the Peppermint article without a tinge of anger or hurt. This time, he just looks genuinely pleased he can use it to win an argument with his sister.
“Fine. Eden counts,” she concedes with a sigh. “Now get your grubby mitts off her. She didn’t ask for that.”
I have to stop myself from glaring at my best friend, because the last thing I want is for Luke to take his arm back.
“Not yet,” Luke says. “We still need to take today’s selfie for her brothers.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the phone back on us, angling the screen so Brinley’s in the shot with us. She makes a disgusted face while Luke kisses me on the cheek. I look embarrassed but pleased.
Luke removes his arm from my shoulders but leans in close so I can review the selfie with him.
“It’s a good one,” he says. “Should you send it to Wade, or should I?”
Guilt swells in my chest. Before, when we sent photos to my brothers, it felt like part of a performance. Now, it feels…confusing. We’re not pretending to our friends anymore, so the lie feels more targeted. Like I’m making a fool of my family.
Except the emotion in that picture is genuine for me. Luke kissing me in front of his sister isn’t just an act. It’s something I wish could be true.
I’m letting myself be fooled by our performance.
“Can you send it?” I ask. My voice sounds strained, and Luke glances over at me.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“Fine. Just tired.”
Another lie, one Luke reluctantly accepts. As James presses play on the Sequel app and Die Hard starts, I’m still feeling uneasy about the whole thing. I can’t tell what lies bother me most—the lies to my family, or the lies to myself.