“There,” he says. “Isn’t this how it was in the movie?”
I laugh again. “It’s been a while, but I think so.” My arms are still out when Teddy’s lips graze the side of my neck. My shiver has nothing to do with the cool night air swirling around us.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, my voice a little too high.
“Being a good fake boyfriend. Your parents are watching.” He’s right. When I look over, both my parents are staring. My mom with a grin. My dad with a scowl. I lean back into Teddy, slightly. Just enough for both of us to feel it. I tell myself it’s to show my dad that we’re a couple, but that’s a lie. The truth is that I do it because I like the feeling of his body next to mine.
I close my eyes, spread my arms a little wider, feel his chin settle on my shoulder, and just breathe, savoring this moment. This feeling of closeness.
After a long moment, he shifts until his lips are almost on my neck. Teddy’s breath stirs the tiny hairs onmy skin, and I shiver.
“You’re cold,” he murmurs, his voice low and flirty. “Bet I could keep you warm without even trying.”
I swallow hard and open my eyes. “Is that part of your fake boyfriend duties?”
“Of course.” His hands slide slightly at my waist, thumbs moving under the edge of my sweater to graze the exposed sliver of skin there. “I take my roleveryseriously.”
I should step away. Make a joke. Remind him this is pretend.
I don’t. Because my body is humming, my breath shallow, and when I glance down at the reflection in the window, our bodies silhouetted together against the water and twinkling lights, I like what I see.
Teddy leans in, just enough to ghost his lips over my ear. “I could kiss you?” he whispers. “You know. Really sell it for your dad.”
God, the way my pulsespikes.
He’s messing with me. I know he is, but his voice is velvet and heat and mischief, and it takes every ounce of my dignity to keep from tilting my head in invitation.
“That won’t be necessary,” I manage, aiming for breezy but hitting breathless. “You’ve already terrified him sufficiently.”
Teddy chuckles against my skin. “You sure? I’m a hard worker. I hate to underperform.”
Are we still talking about the fake boyfriend thing?
His fingers tighten at my waist, not possessive but purposeful. Enough to make me feel every inch of him. The muscles in his chest. The strength in his hands. He’s so close I can barely think. Everything feels too loud. The music, the water, the thud of my own heart.
“You’ve made your point,” I say softly, but I don’t pull away.
His nose brushes the curve of my jaw. “Not sure I have.”
Suddenly it’s not so funny anymore. There’s something serious in the way he says it. Something that makes my breath catch.I twist slightly to face him, our bodies still pressed together at the hips. He’s watching me, his gaze dark and intent. Not playful now. Not teasing.
There’s a question in his eyes, but before I can answer it, before I can even figure out what he’s asking, Jamie calls out from the wheel, “Hey, everyone! Let’s take a picture before the parade ends.”
I jerk back. “We’ll be right there!” I answer, my voice overly bright.
Teddy lets me go and grins, all innocent charm again. “Back to work,” he says, like we’re actors on a stage. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I hate how gentle it feels.
We walk back toward the others. My mom slips an arm around me, her eyes shining. “Isn’t it wonderful?” she whispers. “The very best night.”
“So great,” I say automatically. But my gaze is drifting, finding Teddy across the deck, laughing with Jamie like nothing happened, which is true, nothingdidhappen, but I almost wanted it to.
For the first time, I’m not sure which version of us is pretend and which is real.
Chapter thirty-five
Teddy
I lean against the rail near the bow, nursing what’s left of my water while I watch Helen with her mom. Linda’s cheeks are flushed from the cold and the rum, her laughter soft and unguarded as Helen adjusts the light-up Santa hat perched on her head. There’s an ease between them, the kind of warmth that only exists when love’s been there for a long time, safe, steady, unconditional.