Chapter 26 #2
"Then we'll fake it till we make it." Hannah thrust another glass of champagne into Riley's hand. "Drink this. Get dressed. And then we're going to fix your life."
Fifteen minutes later, Riley stood in front of her closet mirror, barely recognizing herself.
Jenna had picked out dark jeans that actually fit and a soft cream sweater that made her look less like death warmed over.
Hannah had attacked Riley's hair with a brush until it fell in loose waves around her shoulders instead of the rat's nest it had been.
Emily had done her makeup—just mascara and lip gloss, nothing dramatic, but enough to make Riley look almost human.
Riley pressed her hands flat against her thighs, trying to steady herself. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Part excitement, part terror, all adrenaline.
She was really doing this. Showing up at the bonfire. Interrupting boys' night. Forcing him to listen when he'd asked for space.
What if he was still angry? What if he didn't want to see her? What if she'd ruined everything so completely that there was no coming back from it?
"Stop spiraling," Hannah said, appearing in the doorway. "I can literally see you spiraling from here."
"I'm not—"
"Your jaw's doing that thing where it gets all tight." Hannah crossed the room and took Riley's hands. "Breathe. You've got this."
"What if I don't?"
"Then we'll figure it out. But you won't know unless you try." Hannah squeezed her hands. "Come on. Your mom's waiting."
Riley nodded, not trusting her voice.
Her mom was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, car keys in hand, wearing the same soft smile she'd worn when Riley had left for her first day of kindergarten.
"Mom?"
Carol pulled her into a hug that smelled like her perfume and the gingerbread cookies she'd been baking all afternoon. The familiar scent made Riley's eyes sting.
"I'm your designated driver."
"What?"
"Honey, I've been watching you mope since yesterday. Of course I knew." Carol pulled back, framing Riley's face with her hands. Her palms were warm, slightly rough from years of gardening. "Go get your man."
Riley's throat tightened. "What if he doesn't want to talk to me?"
"Then you make him talk to you." Carol's smile was fierce. "You love him. He loves you. Everything else is just noise."
"How do you know he loves me?"
"Because I've seen the way he looks at you since you were sixteen years old. That boy has never stopped loving you, Riley. Not for a second. Now, let me take you to go get your man."
Riley nodded, not trusting her voice.
They piled into Carol's SUV—Riley, Hannah, Emily, and Jenna, all slightly buzzed on champagne and running on adrenaline and the unshakeable belief that this was going to work.
It had to work.
The drive to Ryan's property felt both endless and too short. Riley's heart pounded harder with every mile, her hands twisting in her lap. The champagne buzz had faded, leaving only nerves and determination.
Through the windshield, she watched the familiar roads pass by—the same streets she'd driven as a teenager, the same turns she knew by heart. Pine Valley at night in winter was quiet and beautiful, Christmas lights still twinkling in windows, snow dusting the sidewalks.
"What am I going to say?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"The truth," Hannah said from the back seat. "That you quit your job. That you're moving home. That you love him."
"He won't want to hear it."
"He will," Emily said firmly. "Trust us."
Carol pulled up to the edge of the clearing where the bonfire blazed. Through the trees, Riley could see flames leaping into the dark sky, sparks spiraling upward. She could hear the low rumble of male voices, laughter, the crack of burning wood.
Her stomach dropped.
The cold hit her the moment she opened the car door—sharp and biting, smelling like woodsmoke and pine. Riley's breath fogged in front of her face. Her boots crunched in the snow as she stepped out, and she had to resist the urge to climb right back in.
"I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." Jenna appeared at her elbow, linking their arms. "We'll be right behind you."
"Literally right behind you," Hannah added from her other side. "Like, uncomfortably close. So you can't run."
Despite everything, Riley's lips twitched.
They walked toward the clearing, Riley flanked by her friends, their footsteps muffled by snow. The bonfire grew closer, brighter, the heat of it reaching out even from a distance.
And then she saw him.
Grant stood by the fire, silhouetted against the flames, beer bottle in hand. Even from there, Riley could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he stood slightly apart from the others.
He looked as miserable as she felt.
Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
Ryan spotted them first. His eyes went wide. "Uh, guys?"
The conversation stopped. Four heads turned toward them.
Grant stood slowly, beer bottle dangling from his hand, his expression unreadable in the firelight.
Riley's breath caught.
He looked tired. Sad. Like he'd slept about as well as she had.
"Ladies," Mark said, recovering first. "This is unexpected."
"Boys' night, I know." Hannah's smile was unapologetic. "But we need to steal Grant for just a quick minute."
"Just a minute," Emily reiterated.
Grant's jaw tightened, but he didn't protest.
The guys exchanged looks. Then Mark stood, grabbing his beer. "Come on. Ladies, let us show you the…uh…fire. The view over here is great."
"We can just move over there—" Ryan started.
"Nope. Far away." Hannah made shooing motions.
Emily was already tugging Chris toward the other side of the clearing. Jenna nudged Ryan to follow. Mark clapped Grant on the shoulder as he passed, saying something too quiet for Riley to hear.
Within seconds, the guys had retreated to the far edge of the bonfire, still visible but out of earshot, the girls in tow, leaving the clearing empty except for Riley and Grant.
The fire crackled between them. Snow had started falling again—soft, slow flakes drifting down through the darkness.
Riley's heart hammered so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Grant stood on the far side of the fire, backlit by flames, his expression still unreadable. He glanced into her eyes, and she waited. It was time.
Say something. She needed to say something.
"I know you asked for space," Riley started, her voice shaking. "But I just couldn't wait to talk and—"
Grant moved.
Three long strides away from the fire, and then he was there, his hands framing her face, his mouth crashing down on hers.
Riley gasped against his lips, and Grant took advantage, deepening the kiss, pulling her closer. She grabbed his jacket, holding on like he might disappear if she let go.
The kiss was desperate. Hungry. Full of two days of missing each other and fighting and words left unsaid.
When Grant finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
"I missed you," he said, his voice rough.