“Someone has to be.”
She started swaying—badly, if I’m being honest. Her rhythm was all over the place, like she couldn’t decide between waltzing and jumping up and down in the snow. But she was laughing, and that made it impossible not to laugh with her.
“Wow,” I said. “You’re terrible at this.”
“I’m amazing at this,” she said. “You’re just too uptight to appreciate art.”
“Pretty sure this is the opposite of art.”
She gasped dramatically. “Are you insulting your fake girlfriend right now? Rude.”
“Fake girlfriend, fake dancing. It fits.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
That shut me up for a second. I don’t think she even realized what she’d said—she just kept spinning, her laughter echoing softly in the cold air. But my brain caught on the word cute and refused to let it go.
When she stumbled a little, I caught her by the waist, steadying her. Her hands came up automatically, clutching my shoulders. We were close now—too close. Her hair brushed against my chin, and I could smell the faint hint of vanilla from her shampoo.
She looked up at me, eyes bright and wide and full of snowlight.
And just like that, I knew.
I was in love with her.
Not the idea of her. Not the fake version we’d built for everyone else. Her.
The stubborn, sarcastic, impossible girl who laughed in snowstorms and refused to wear coats and made me forget how to breathe.
The realization hit me so hard I almost laughed. It was ridiculous. I wasn’t supposed to fall for her. That was literally the one rule.
“Tino,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hush of the snow.
“Yeah?”
“You’re staring.”
I blinked, forcing a smile. “Just waiting for you to step on my foot again.”
She laughed, and the moment passed—but not completely. Something lingered in the air, something warm and dangerous that made my chest feel too tight. She leaned her head briefly against my shoulder as we swayed. We danced a little longer, until our fingers were numb and our breath came out in white clouds. Then she pulled back, cheeks flushed, eyes shining.
“Okay,” she said, “I’m freezing. You were right.”
“I’ll never let you live that down,” I said, grabbing her coat from the car and helping her into it. Both of us were shivering and we sat in the car for a minute with the heater blasting. The windshield fogged up, and she drew a little heart in the condensation before realizing what she’d done and wiping it away, flustered.
I pretended not to notice.
As I drove back toward the house, she fell quiet beside me, humming softly along with the music. I glanced over at her once—just once—and caught her watching the snow again, a small smile on her lips.
I turned back to the road, my heart pounding in my chest, and finally admitted the thing I’d been avoiding for weeks.
I was completely, hopelessly, stupidly in love with Lilah Turner.
And if I wasn’t careful, this fake relationship was going to break me for real.
CHAPTER 23
tino
