Chapter 5 #2
By the time people started filtering out, Riley was exhausted.
Not from the party, but from maintaining the performance.
From pretending this was normal. From trying not to think too hard about how easy it was to lean into Grant, to let his arm stay around her, to laugh at his jokes like they were the only two people in the room.
"You two heading out?" Hannah asked as they grabbed their coats.
"Yeah. Early morning tomorrow," Grant said.
"Tree farm stuff?"
"Always."
Hannah hugged them both. "I'm so glad you guys are back together. It feels right, you know?"
Riley's chest tightened. "Yeah. It does."
They said their goodbyes and escaped into the cold night air. Snow was falling now, soft and quiet, coating everything in white.
Grant opened the truck door for her, and Riley climbed in, her head spinning.
He slid into the driver's seat and started the engine but didn't pull out of the driveway right away.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"That bad?"
"No. It was—" Riley turned to him. "It was really easy. Too easy."
Grant's jaw tightened. "Yeah."
"Everyone believed us."
"They did."
"Hannah was so happy for us."
"I know."
Riley pressed her palms against her eyes. "What are we doing, Grant?"
"Surviving the holidays."
"By lying to everyone we love."
"It's not forever."
"I know. But it still feels—"
"A little wrong?" Grant finished quietly.
"Yeah."
They sat in silence for a moment, snow falling around the truck, the only sound their breathing and the distant music still drifting from Jenna's house.
"We can still tell them the truth," Grant said. "Right now. We can go back in there and—"
"No." Riley dropped her hands. "No. We're already in it. Might as well see it through. It would be worse if we didn’t.”
"You sure?"
"Are you?"
Grant was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "No. But I'm not backing out now. We can end it gracefully after the holidays."
"Me either."
He finally pulled out of the driveway, and they drove in silence through the snow-covered streets. The town looked like a postcard—lights twinkling in every window, wreaths on every door, the kind of picture-perfect Christmas that only existed in small towns and Hallmark movies.
When Grant pulled up to her house, neither of them moved.
Riley turned to him, a smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, but seriously—the leg grab?"
Grant's eyebrows rose. "What about it?"
"When Hannah was interrogating me about whether we'd slept together? You put your hand on my leg under the table." She shook her head, impressed. "That was smooth. Very 'protective boyfriend who's trying to calm his nervous girlfriend down.'"
"It worked, didn't it?"
"It absolutely worked. I almost forgot we were lying." She tilted her head. "Where did you learn that move?"
"I didn't learn it. It just—" He shrugged. "You looked panicked. I was trying to help."
"Well, it helped. And it sold the whole 'we can't keep our hands off each other because it’s new' thing." Riley paused. "Which was the point, right?"
"Right. The point."
There was something in his voice that made her stomach flip, but she pushed past it.
"And you," Grant said, his mouth quirking up. "That thing you did when Mark asked how we got back together."
"What thing?"
"You touched my arm and looked up at me like—" He stopped, searching for words. "Like I was the only person in the room."
Riley's face heated. "I was acting."
"I know. But it was good acting." His gaze held hers. "Really good."
"So were you. The thumb circles on my hip?" She gestured vaguely. "That was evil. I could barely focus on answering questions."
"That was the point."
"To distract me?"
"To make it look real." Grant's voice dropped slightly. "Did it work?"
Riley's mouth went dry. "Yeah. It worked."
They stared at each other for a beat too long, the air in the truck suddenly feeling thin.
"We make a good team," Riley said finally, breaking eye contact.
"We always did."
"Yeah. Well." She cleared her throat. "We should probably have a signal or something. For when one of us needs backup."
"What kind of signal?"
"I don't know. Like—" She demonstrated by tugging her earlobe. "This means 'rescue me, I'm drowning.'"
Grant laughed, the sound warm and real. "Okay. And what if I need rescuing?"
"You? Mr. Smooth? Mr. I've Got This Under Control?"
"I panicked when Emily asked about our first kiss."
"You did not panic. You said—" Riley paused, replaying it. "Wait. You said we kissed by your truck after the hardware store. That was good improv."
"I was making it up as I went."
"See? You don't need rescuing. You're a natural liar."
Grant's smile faded slightly. "I'm not sure that's a compliment."
"It is tonight." Riley's expression softened. "Seriously, though. You were great in there. Everyone bought it because you sold it. The way you looked at me, the way you—" She stopped, realizing she was saying too much.
"The way I what?"
"Nothing. Just—you're good at this. The fake dating thing."
"So are you."
"We're both excellent liars. That's what we're establishing here."
"Apparently."
Riley reached for the door handle, then hesitated. "Grant?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For doing this. I know it's weird and complicated and—"
"It’s not weird. Complicated? Definitely."
"But I appreciate it. Really."
Grant's gaze was steady, serious. "You don't have to thank me, Riley."
"I do. You're saving me from two weeks of commentary about being single and—"
"That's not why I offered."
Riley's breath caught. "Then why did you?"
He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Then he said, “Because you deserve to relax and enjoy the holidays as much as anyone else. And then I can just be your plus-one and not hear any BS either.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning Riley didn't want to examine too closely.
"Oh," she said quietly.
Grant's gaze dropped to her lips—just for a second, but long enough that Riley felt it like a physical touch.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
For one breathless moment, she thought he might lean across the console. Thought he might close the distance and kiss her, and she wouldn't stop him, wouldn't even pretend to want to stop him—
But he didn't.
He cleared his throat and looked away, breaking whatever spell had fallen over them. "You should get inside. It's late."
"Right. Yeah." Riley fumbled with the door handle, her hands suddenly clumsy. "I'll—I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
She climbed out of the truck, the cold air hitting her like a slap. She headed for the porch, hyper-aware of him watching her, of the way her pulse was still racing.
At the door, she turned and waved.
He waved back, then drove away, taillights disappearing into the snow.
Riley stood there for a long moment, heart pounding, mind racing.
They'd done it. They'd convinced everyone.
And the scariest part?
She'd almost convinced herself.