Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Riley
Riley climbed into Grant's truck outside her parents' house, still buzzing from the night before—the kiss at Hannigan's, the territorial claiming, the way Tessa had practically fled.
"Ready for round two?" Grant asked, pulling out of the driveway.
"Round two of what?"
"Everyone asking us about our relationship."
Riley groaned. "Hannah's hosting tonight. She's going to grill us."
"She's already been grilling us."
"This will be worse. Trust me."
Grant's hand found hers across the console. "We'll survive."
Hannah and Mark's house was already full by the time they arrived—fairy lights strung across the living room, Christmas music playing over the sound of kids laughing upstairs, the smell of mulled wine and cinnamon filling the air.
Most of their friend group had already shown up: Emily and Chris, Jenna and Ryan, a few other Pine Valley locals Riley had known since high school.
Hannah opened the door, took one look at them standing together on her porch, and grinned like the cat who'd caught the canary.
"Well, well, well," she said. "The lovebirds have arrived."
"We're not—" Riley started.
"You absolutely are." Hannah ushered them inside. "Come in, come in. Everyone's dying to hear about last night."
Grant helped Riley out of her coat, his hand lingering on her shoulder. The simple gesture felt so natural, so couple-like, that Riley's chest went tight.
"There she is!" Hannah announced to the room. "The woman of the hour."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Hannah handed Riley a glass of wine. "Girls, living room. Now."
Riley found herself being dragged to the couch where Emily and Jenna were already waiting, matching grins on their faces. Grant caught her eye from across the room where Mark and Chris had immediately cornered him and winked.
"So," Emily said without preamble. "On a scale of one to ten, how satisfying was it to kiss Grant in front of Tessa Martin?"
"Extremely," Riley admitted.
"I knew it!" Jenna crowed. "The look on Tessa's face was priceless."
"She practically ran out of there," Hannah added. "I don't think I've ever seen someone retreat that fast."
Riley took a sip of wine, trying not to look too pleased with herself. "I may have gotten a little carried away."
"A little?" Emily laughed. "Riley, you staked your claim in front of half the town."
"Tessa needed to know Grant's taken."
"Oh, she knows now," Hannah said. "Everyone knows. Mrs. Ames has probably told half of Pine Valley by now."
Mark wandered over with Grant, Chris, and Ryan in tow. "What are we talking about?"
"Riley's territorial display," Hannah said cheerfully.
Grant's eyes met Riley's, amused. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"That's exactly what we're calling it," Emily said.
"In my defense," Riley said, feeling her cheeks heat. "Tessa was being inappropriate."
"She was," Grant agreed, settling onto the arm of the couch next to Riley. His hand found her shoulder, thumb tracing absent patterns. "Very inappropriate."
"So Riley had to mark her territory," Chris said, grinning. "Classic move."
"I did not mark—" Riley stopped. "Okay, maybe a little."
"A lot," Hannah corrected. "You basically announced to the entire bar that Grant Lawson is off the market."
"He is off the market," Riley said. "We're together."
Grant's hand tightened slightly on her shoulder.
"You two look happy," Jenna said softly. "Really happy."
"We are," Grant said, and something in his voice made Riley's chest tight.
"Very," Riley agreed quietly.
The conversation shifted to other topics—Christmas plans, New Year's Eve parties, who was hosting what. But Riley was hyperaware of Grant beside her, the way his hand never left her shoulder, the way she kept unconsciously leaning into him.
This was getting dangerously comfortable.
An hour later, Riley found herself in the kitchen refilling her wine glass when Grant appeared in the doorway.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey yourself."
He crossed to her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. "Having fun?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah." He grabbed a beer from the cooler. "Mark's getting competitive about Pictionary."
"Mark gets competitive about everything."
"Fair point." Grant took a sip, his eyes warm on hers. "You look good tonight."
Riley's face heated. "I'm wearing jeans and a sweater."
"I know what you're wearing."
The way he said it made Riley's stomach flip. "Grant—"
"Want to get out of here soon?" he asked quietly. "Go for a drive?"
"What kind of drive?"
"The kind where we don't go straight home."
Riley's pulse kicked up. "Yeah. I'd like that."
"Good."
Hannah appeared in the doorway. "Pictionary time! You two ready to destroy everyone again?"
"We'll be right there," Grant said.
Hannah disappeared, and Riley exhaled slowly.
"We should—" she started.
"Yeah."
They rejoined the party, but the tension between them had shifted into something heavier, more charged. Every time their eyes met across the room, Riley felt it—the pull, the want, the knowledge that they were both dancing around something neither of them wanted to name.
During Pictionary, Grant's team won by a landslide, mostly because he and Riley had developed some kind of telepathy that let them guess each other's terrible drawings with alarming accuracy.
"This is unfair," Mark complained. "They're communicating psychically."
"Ten years of history," Emily said with a soft smile. "They have shorthand."
Riley caught Grant's eye, and something passed between them—acknowledgment of all those years, all that history, all the ways they still fit together despite everything.
By the time the party started winding down around eleven, Riley's skin was buzzing with awareness. Grant had barely left her side all night—his hand on her back when they moved through rooms, his arm around her shoulders during the game, his laugh warm in her ear when she made a joke.
They helped Hannah and Mark clean up, then headed out into the cold night air together.
Grant opened the truck door for her, and Riley climbed in, immediately hit with the familiar warmth from the heater.
Grant slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Do you want to go home?" he asked.
Riley looked at him—really looked. "No. Not yet."
Grant's smile was slow. "Good. Me either."
He pulled out of the driveway, and instead of turning toward Riley's house, he headed toward the east side of town.
"Where are we going?" Riley asked.
"Thought we could drive through Maple Ridge. See the Christmas lights."
Maple Ridge was the fancy neighborhood on the hill—massive houses, elaborate decorations, the kind of displays people drove from other towns to see.
"Really?"
"You used to love doing that."
Riley's chest warmed. "I did. I didn't think you remembered."
"I remember everything."
They drove through Pine Valley in comfortable silence, Christmas music playing softly on the radio. Grant's hand found hers across the console, their fingers intertwining naturally.
Maple Ridge was lit up like a winter wonderland—every house competing for the most elaborate display. Inflatable snowmen, light-up reindeer, roofs covered in icicle lights that sparkled against the snow.
"Oh my god," Riley breathed, staring at a house that had synchronized its lights to music. "That one's new."
"They do it every year now. Different song each time."
"It's amazing."
Grant drove slowly through the neighborhood, giving Riley time to take it all in. She pressed her face to the window like a kid, pointing out her favorites, laughing at the more ridiculous displays.
"That one has a light-up nativity scene next to an inflatable Grinch," she said. "Mixed messages."
"Holiday inclusivity."
"Or chaos."
Grant squeezed her hand. "You're smiling."
"I'm happy." The words came out before Riley could stop them. Simple. True.
Grant's expression softened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
They finished the loop through Maple Ridge, and instead of heading back to town, Grant turned onto Route 9.
Riley knew exactly where they were going.
"The overlook?" she asked.
"Unless you object."
"No objections."
The overlook sat at the top of Miller's Hill, offering a view of Pine Valley spreading out below—twinkling lights, smoke curling from chimneys, the kind of postcard-perfect scene that made Riley's chest ache.
"Remember when we used to come here?" Riley asked as Grant pulled into their old spot.
"Every weekend senior year."
"We thought we were so sneaky."
"We definitely weren't. My dad knew."
"He did?"
"He told me years later. Said as long as we were safe and smart, he wasn't going to stop us."
Riley laughed. "Your dad's the best."
"He is."
Grant killed the engine, and they sat there for a moment, the heater running, snow falling soft outside the windows.
"This is nice," Riley said quietly.
"Yeah."
"Just being here. With you."
Grant turned to face her, his expression warm and intent. "Come here."
Riley's pulse kicked up. "What if I want you to tell me what you're thinking first?"
"I'm thinking I want to kiss you."
"Just kiss?" she teased.
Riley's face heated. "For starters."
“Tell me more,” she murmured.
Grant's smile was wicked. "Then come here."
Riley didn't need to be told more than twice. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed across the console—bracing her hand on it for leverage—settling onto Grant's lap, her knees on either side of his thighs.
His hands found her waist immediately, steadying her, pulling her into him.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi."
Riley kissed him before either of them could say anything else—no questions, no hesitation, just want.
The kiss deepened fast, going from sweet to desperate in seconds. Grant's hands slid under her coat, under her sweater, finding bare skin, and Riley gasped against his mouth.
God, she wanted him. Wanted this. Wanted to let go of every careful wall she'd built and just feel. She wanted to let go.