Page 64 of The Mistletoe Bluff
Emma set her fork down. “Jameson, I will be perfectly safe, I promise. But you know how mom would worry.”
“Like howIwill now be worrying.”
Emma just laughed, waving him off.
Elsie tried to change the subject to get that stricken look off Jameson’s face. “Have you met any boys on that fancy college campus of yours?”
Some of the joy leaked out of Emma’s expression and she looked at her plate, poking at her potatoes.
“No, I’m focusing on my schoolwork.”
Jameson and I locked eyes, recognizing it for the lie it was.
There was one boy Emma had always had her eye on—ever since she was little.
When Emma was younger, she had a childhood best friend, Liam. All of Meridel expected them to get married someday, at least until Liam signed a record deal and left with barely a goodbye last year.
Knowing we were drifting into territory she didn’t like venturing into, I had mercy on her and changed the subject. “How long are you staying, Em?”
She gave me a grateful look. “I’ll head back to the city in a few days. Since Jamie will be out of town and mom’s strength is getting better, I’m going to bring her back to the city with me, show her around campus.”
“We’ll have to get coffee and catch up before you leave,” I said before Elsie and Jameson hijacked the conversation, launching into talking about wedding plans.
Elsie had asked me to be her maid of honor, which I was ecstatic about, but I was certain I had heard all their plans at least ten times by now, so my mind started to wander as they filled in Emma on the venue and details.
Oliver’s hand, which was still on my knee, started inching higher up my thigh, his thumb moving in tiny circles. I turned questioning eyes on him, silently asking him what he was doing, but his gaze burned through me, and I had to look away.
His hand continued to drift higher, and I slapped my hand down on his. He laced his pinky with mine. A strange silence fell over the table.
“Maya, can you help me get more wine?” Emma asked me, rising from her chair.
I quirked a brow. “Uh, sure.”
Oliver’s hand slid from my leg as I followed her into the kitchen.
“So, what’s the story with you and Oliver?” Emma asked, spinning on me.
“What?”
“There’s clearly something going on between you two. You look like you’re undressing each other with your eyes, yet you have very different answers on who you are to each other, so give me the scoop.”
My face grew hot at her assessment.
I sighed, wishing once again that I could’ve told her this weeks ago. “We’re fake dating.”
“Fakedating? Why would you do that?”
Withholding a groan, I caught Emma up on everything that had happened the last few weeks; that I offered to be Oliver’s fake girlfriend, our date at the Christmas tree farm, and our first kiss in his Jeep during the snowstorm. When I finished, Emma’s eyes were wide.
“I picked a crappy time to have college finals,” she muttered which made me snort. “How are you handling this?”
Normally I loved that Emma could see through me, having watched me go through all the pain and heartache first with my dad and then my mom. She was the type of person who justsensedwhat others were feeling, or if something was off.
But right now, when I was already so conflicted over Oliver, I wished she wasn’t so aware.
“I’m…handling it,” I lied. Maybe there would be time for us to catch up and dissect all these feelings I’d been having, but not when Oliver was in the next room. Not when we were supposed to be spending Friendsmas together. “We should head back in,” I suggested.
She stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Just tell me this. Why are youfakedating when you’ve been flinging flirty looks at each other all evening?”
