He slid into the driver's seat and started the engine but didn't pull out of the driveway right away.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"That bad?"
"No. It was—" Riley turned to him. "It was really easy. Too easy."
Grant's jaw tightened. "Yeah."
"Everyone believed us."
"They did."
"Hannah was so happy for us."
"I know."
Riley pressed her palms against her eyes. "What are we doing, Grant?"
"Surviving the holidays."
"By lying to everyone we love."
"It's not forever."
"I know. But it still feels?—"
"A little wrong?" Grant finished quietly.
"Yeah."
They sat in silence for a moment, snow falling around the truck, the only sound their breathing and the distant music still drifting from Jenna's house.
"We can still tell them the truth," Grant said. "Right now. We can go back in there and?—"
"No." Riley dropped her hands. "No. We're already in it. Might as well see it through. It would be worse if we didn’t.”
"You sure?"
"Are you?"
Grant was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "No. But I'm not backing out now. We can end it gracefully after the holidays."
"Me either."
He finally pulled out of the driveway, and they drove in silence through the snow-covered streets. The town looked like a postcard—lights twinkling in every window, wreaths on every door, the kind of picture-perfect Christmas that only existed in small towns and Hallmark movies.
When Grant pulled up to her house, neither of them moved.
Riley turned to him, a smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, but seriously—the leg grab?"
Grant's eyebrows rose. "What about it?"
"When Hannah was interrogating me about whether we'd slept together? You put your hand on my leg under the table." She shook her head, impressed. "That was smooth. Very 'protective boyfriend who's trying to calm his nervous girlfriend down.'"
"It worked, didn't it?"
