Mark tugged her away before Grant could respond. "Come on. Let's go find Ryan before you scare off the entire male population."
Hannah waved as they disappeared into the crowd, and Grant exhaled slowly.
Riley's bringing someone.
Everyone thought she had a real date. Everyone thought Grant had no idea. And here he was, standing behind a booth full of Christmas trees, lying to his friends and wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into.
The crowd thickenedas the afternoon stretched into evening. Grant sold trees, gave directions, helped a kid find his mom, and restocked the wreath display twice. Every time someone mentioned Riley, his chest tightened. Every time someone asked if he was bringing anyone to the reunion, he had to force himself not to blurt out the truth.
Just get through today. Tomorrow you'll meet with Riley and finalize the details. Then you'll start lying in earnest.
By the time the sun started setting, the lights were on, and the festival had transformed into something out of a postcard—snowflakes drifting through golden light, music drifting from the bandstand, laughter echoing off the storefronts.
And then he saw her.
Riley.
She was standing near the hot chocolate booth, hands shoved in her coat pockets, snowflakes catching in her dark hair. She looked the same as last Christmas—sharp eyes, quick smile, the posture of someone ready to take on the world or run from it, depending on the day.
Grant's chest went tight.
This was different now. She wasn't just Riley, the girl he used to date. She was Riley, his fake girlfriend. Riley, who was about to walk over here and start the most insane charade either of them had ever attempted.
She turned, scanning the crowd, and their eyes met.
For a second, neither of them moved. Then Riley's face shifted into something careful—practiced—and she started toward him.
Grant forced himself to breathe.
"Hey," she said, stopping a few feet from the booth.
"Hey."
"Busy?"
"Yeah. You know how it is."
"I do." She glanced at the display, her hands still buried in her pockets. "Wreaths look good."
"Thanks."
Silence stretched between them, awkward and loaded. This was how it always went at first—polite, surface-level, both of them pretending they hadn't once known every detail of each other's lives. Except now there was a secret between them, heavy and ridiculous.
Riley cleared her throat. "So. About tomorrow."
"Yeah."
"I'm thinking mid-morning? That work for you?"
"Sure."
"We need to get our story straight before the reunion."
Grant nodded, hyper-aware of the people milling around them, any one of whom could overhear. "Agreed."
"This is insane," Riley said quietly.
"Completely."
