Page 37 of Holiday Love
“I’m just saying, I’ve got range.” He strikes a pose and grins at me.
“You don’t get it. I panic when I lie. My brain short-circuits. I overthink every word, I forget what I’ve already said, and I either give way too much detail or none at all. I’m like…a malfunctioning Roomba trying to bluff its way out of a poker game.”
Teddy snorts. “That’s weirdly specific.”
“I once told a classmate I couldn’t go to her birthday party because I had a rare allergic reaction to balloons.” I sigh. “Then I doubled down and said it was thelatexproteins. Do you know how long I had to fake that allergy?”
He laughs, clearly delighted. “This explains the trucker haircut lady.”
“Exactly!” I throw my hands up. “I’m built for honesty and scheduled structure. I’m a straight-A medical student in a sea of improv actors. Lying makes me sweat.”
Teddy’s grin softens into something…fond. “Okay, then we won’t lie. Not really. We’ll just selectively curate the truth.”
I eye him warily. “That sounds suspiciously like lying.”
“It’s all in the delivery, Helen.” He lifts an eyebrow, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “You just need a partner who can sell it.” He points to himself and wiggles his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth twitch. “You really think we can do this?”
“I know we can, Helen the Hellcat.” His grin curves slowly, the nickname a throwback to Gwen’s wedding night, when he’d challenged me to a dance-off and the two of us spun under thelights, laughing while the crowd egged us on. Back then, he’d called me that like it was a dare, like he’d already decided I could match him step for step.
Now, he bumps his knee against mine, his voice low and steady. “I believe in you.”
God help me because when he says it like that I kind of believe in me, in us, too.
“Next,” Teddy declares loudly, like it’s his job to keep us on track. He taps the pen against his chin. “First date.”
I cross my arms. Not wanting to get too close to the truth this time, I make something up. “Rooftop dinner. String lights. Jazz trio in the corner. I wore a green dress and said nothing awkward the entire time.”
He deadpans, “That’s how we know it’s fiction.”
“Ha, ha. Funny.” I send him a mock glare.
He writes,First date: Rooftop jazz club. Green dress. Zero awkward silences (LOL). The note goes on the table.
“Pet names,” he announces.
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s fake dating law. We need at least two disgusting ones.”
“Nope.”
“Snugglebutt?”
I lob another pillow at him. “Iwillmurder you.”
He catches the pillow midair and tucks it under his back. “Murder snugglebutt. It’s got a nice ring to it.”
Teddy writes:Pet names: Babe (for public use). Murder Snugglebutt (private use only—under death threat).
“This is spiraling,” I mutter.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He stares down at the note pad. “Okay. This one’s important. First kiss.”
I freeze.
His voice is casual, but the air between us shifts. I can feel it. That invisible string tightening. Tension rising like steam out of a hot shower.
