"Nothing. Just—you're good at this. The fake dating thing."
"So are you."
"We're both excellent liars. That's what we're establishing here."
"Apparently."
Riley reached for the door handle, then hesitated. "Grant?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For doing this. I know it's weird and complicated and?—"
"It’s not weird. Complicated? Definitely."
"But I appreciate it. Really."
Grant's gaze was steady, serious. "You don't have to thank me, Riley."
"I do. You're saving me from two weeks of commentary about being single and?—"
"That's not why I offered."
Riley's breath caught. "Then why did you?"
He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Then he said, “Because you deserve to relax and enjoy the holidays as much as anyone else. And then I can just beyourplus-one and not hear any BS either.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning Riley didn't want to examine too closely.
"Oh," she said quietly.
Grant's gaze dropped to her lips—just for a second, but long enough that Riley felt it like a physical touch.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
For one breathless moment, she thought he might lean across the console. Thought he might close the distance and kiss her, and she wouldn't stop him, wouldn't even pretend to want to stop him?—
But he didn't.
He cleared his throat and looked away, breaking whatever spell had fallen over them. "You should get inside. It's late."
"Right. Yeah." Riley fumbled with the door handle, her hands suddenly clumsy. "I'll—I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
She climbed out of the truck, the cold air hitting her like a slap. She headed for the porch, hyper-aware of him watching her, of the way her pulse was still racing.
At the door, she turned and waved.
He waved back, then drove away, taillights disappearing into the snow.
Riley stood there for a long moment, heart pounding, mind racing.
They'd done it. They'd convinced everyone.
And the scariest part?
She'd almost convinced herself.
