"Riley."
"Yeah?"
"This is a terrible idea."
She looked up at him, and something passed between them—something unspoken and dangerous. "I know."
"We're going to mess this up."
"Probably."
"And then everyone's going to know we lied."
"Maybe."
Grant's hand tightened slightly at her waist. "So why are we doing this?"
Riley's voice was barely above a whisper. "Because I don't want to do the holidays alone and be ridiculed for being Miss Too Independent. It’s not fair. And because you offered. And because—" She stopped.
"Because?"
"Because it's you. And I trust you. And you’re tired of being considered everyone’s plus one."
Grant's chest cracked open. He wanted to tell her that trust was dangerous. That this whole thing was dangerous. Andstanding here with her in his arms felt too real and not real enough at the same time.
But instead, he just nodded. "Okay."
"Okay."
She pulled her phone from her pocket, and they angled for a selfie—his arm still around her waist, her leaning into him, both of them smiling like this was normal.
Riley snapped the photo and pulled back to look at it. "Wow."
"What?"
"We look…really convincing."
Grant leaned over her shoulder to see. She was right. They looked like a couple. A real couple. The kind of couple that finished each other's sentences and knew each other's coffee orders and didn't have to pretend.
"Send it to me," he said.
"Why?"
"In case I need proof too."
Riley nodded and tapped her screen. A second later, Grant's phone buzzed in his pocket.
They stood there for another beat, neither quite ready to step apart.
The back door opened, and Thomas's voice echoed through the mudroom. "Grant? You got a minute?"
They jumped apart like teenagers caught making out.
"Yeah, Dad," Grant called. "Be right there."
Thomas appeared in the doorway, taking in the scene—Riley flushed and flustered, Grant standing too close, both of them looking guilty as hell.
A slow smile spread across Thomas's face. "Riley. Good to see you."
