Riley's eyes searched his face, and whatever she saw there made her breath catch.
Grant climbed out and came around to open her door, taking her hand to help her down. The cold bit at them as they walked to the house, but Grant barely felt it. All he could focus on was Riley's hand in his and the fact that she was here.
She'd come to him.
Inside, the house was quiet and warm. Grant flipped on the lights, suddenly aware of how the place must look—lived-in and a little messy, his jacket on the back of the couch, his dad's newspaper on the coffee table.
"Dad's at poker night," Grant said, shrugging off his coat. "Won't be back until late."
Riley nodded, slipping out of her own coat. Her hands were shaking.
Grant hung both coats by the door and turned to face her. They stood in the living room, the Christmas tree lights still twinkling in the corner, and Grant had never been more nervous in his life.
"I know I didn't give you a chance to talk," he started. "And I'm so sorry for that. I was hurt and scared and I said things I didn't mean?—"
"Please, Grant." Riley's voice cracked. "Let me say what I came to say before I explode."
Despite everything, Grant laughed. The sound surprised him—rough and a little broken but real.
"Okay," he said, settling onto the couch. "I'm listening. I promise."
Riley paced in front of the Christmas tree, her hands gesturing as she talked. "I quit my job. The day I missed the pageant. Before I even missed it."
Grant's chest tightened, and his eyes grew wide, but he stayed quiet. Let her talk.
"My boss kept piling things on, and I kept thinking I could finish and still make it back in time. But then I looked at the clock and realized there was no way. I was going to miss it. I was going to break my promise to you." Riley's voice shook. "And in that moment, I just... I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't let my job control my life. Couldn't let it take away the things that actually mattered."
She stopped pacing and looked at him, her eyes shining with tears.
"So I quit. Right there. Sent my resignation email while she watched me type it and walked out. I caught the earliest train I could, but by the time I got here, the pageant was over and you were so hurt and angry." Her voice broke. "And when I tried to tell you, you wouldn't let me finish. You kept saying it was all fake anyway, and I thought—I thought I'd ruined everything."
"Riley—"
"I'm not done." She took a shaky breath. "Let me get through this or I’m going to explode.” She wrung her hands out, and Grant leaned forward, elbows on his knees to listen intently. “I'm breaking my lease in the city. I'm starting my own business here—marketing and consulting for local businesses. I'm moving home, Grant. Not just for the holidays. Permanently. I'mchoosing Pine Valley. I'm choosing this life. I'm choosing you. If you’ll have me. It wasn’t fake for me. I don’t think it was ever fake for me."
The words hung in the air between them.
Grant stood slowly, his heart hammering so hard he could hear it in his ears.
"I love you," Riley whispered. "I've loved you since we were sixteen years old, and I never stopped. Not when I left for college. Not when I moved to the city. Not when you offered to fake date me so people would stop teasing me." A tear slid down her cheek. "It stopped being fake for me the minute you touched me. Maybe it was never fake at all."
Grant crossed the room in to her in two long strides and pulled her into his arms.
"It wasn’t fake," he said against her hair. "Not for a second. Not from the moment we walked into that reunion hand in hand. Maybe not even then."
Riley pulled back to look at him, her hands fisting in his shirt. "Grant?—"
"I love you." The words came out fierce. Certain. "I've loved you since we were sixteen years old, sitting in my truck eating ice cream and talking about nothing. I loved you when you left for college. I loved you when you moved to the city. I loved you every single day for the past ten years even when I tried not to."
He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears.
"When I offered to fake date you, when I knew how much the teasing was getting to you, I jumped at the chance. Any excuse to be close to you again. To pretend, even for a little while, that we were together. That you were mine. But it didn't feel like pretending. It felt like coming home."
"Grant." Riley's voice broke on his name.
"I'm sorry I didn't let you talk. I'm sorry I threw the fake dating in your face when I knew it wasn't fake. I was scared and hurt and I wanted you to hurt too." Grant rested his forehead against hers. "But hearing you say you're staying? That you're choosing this? Riley, that's all I've ever wanted. You're all I've ever wanted."
"I'm so sorry I didn't say something sooner," Riley whispered. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time pretending?—"
