"We knew," Hannah said, her smile gentle despite the laughter. "About the fake dating. We knew from the beginning."
Riley blinked. "What?"
"We knew it was fake," Emily confirmed. "From the beginning."
"You—how?"
"Riley." Jenna's smile was soft. "We alllivehere. We'd know if Grant was actually dating someone. The whole town would know. You can't keep secrets in Pine Valley. Grant has been Pine Valley’s most eligible bachelor since you two broke up."
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you two clearly belonged together," Hannah said. "Fake or not, the way you looked at each other? That was clearly real. We figured you'd work it out eventually."
Riley's eyes filled with tears. "I ruined it. I missed the pageant and he was so hurt and angry, and when I tried to explain, he wouldn't let me. He just kept saying it was fake anyway and that he should have known better."
"Oh, Riley." Emily squeezed her hand.
"I quit my job," Riley said, her voice breaking. "I quit because I realized that life—the city, the job, all of it—wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to come home. I wanted to be here. I wanted him." She wiped at her eyes. "And I tried to tell him, but hewouldn't listen. He was so convinced I'd chosen work over him that he wouldn't let me finish a sentence."
"That stubborn idiot," Hannah muttered.
"He's not?—"
"Yes, he is. He's stubborn and proud and probably sitting at Ryan's bonfire right now sulking just as hard as you are." Hannah stood up, that dangerous glint in her eye that meant she was planning something. "Which is why we're going to crash boys' night."
Riley's head snapped up. "What? No."
"Yes," Jenna said firmly. "You need to talk to him. Actually talk to him. Make him listen."
"He asked for space?—"
"It's been a day. That's enough space." Emily pulled Riley to her feet. "Come on. Get dressed. We're going."
"I can't just show up?—"
"You absolutely can," Hannah interrupted. "Because if we leave you two alone, you're both going to be miserable forever. Grant's too proud to come to you—I mean I think he would eventually—and you're too scared of pushing him to go to him. So we're taking matters into our own hands."
"But—"
"No buts." Jenna was already rummaging through Riley's closet. "What do you want to wear? Something cute but not trying too hard. We want 'I'm here to fix this' not 'I'm desperate but also, ‘don’t forget how hot I am, you can’t let me go.'"
"I am desperate," Riley protested weakly.
"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?—"
