Page 25 of Her Holiday Arrangement
She needed to sleep. She needed tonotthink about how close Elizabeth was. How good she smelled. How easily Riley could roll over and feel skin.
She turned again, facing away. The pillow smelled like lavender.
Behind her, Elizabeth stirred slightly. Just a breath. A shift.
And Riley lay there, eyes wide open, trapped in her own body, heart pounding like it was trying to claw its way out of her chest.
Sleep would not be coming soon.
The bedroom was quiet but not peaceful.
Outside, snow whispered against the tall windows, branches occasionally tapping like they were asking to come in. The moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains, spilling faint silver shapes across the floor, just enough to see by. But Riley didn’t look. She was too busy staring at the ceiling. Or rather, trying not to stare at Elizabeth.
They were both awake. Rileyknewit. She could feel it, feel it in the tension under the stillness, in the precise way Elizabeth breathed. Too measured. Too careful. Like someone pretending to sleep.
Which was fair. Riley was doing the exact same thing.
She’d been lying there for what felt like hours, heart pounding loud enough to count as internal betrayal. Every time she tried to shift, she stopped herself. Every time her toe came within an inch of Elizabeth’s calf under the duvet, she flinched like she’d touched fire.
She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t think straight.
Her mind was in a spiral, looping the same awful questions like a cruel lullaby.
What are you doing here? What happens if you mess this up? What happens when it ends?
This whole thing, the job, the performance, the whispered lies wrapped in silverware and champagne, it had always had an expiration date. But now that she was in it, reallyin it, with Elizabeth breathing next to her in the dark and the memory of a laugh still echoing from dinner, the edges were getting blurry. Dangerous.
Riley wanted it to be real.
And that was the scariest part.
She bit her lip, pressing her eyes shut.You knew this was a game. You knew. You’re here for the paycheck, remember? Not the person.
Except the person was soft in sleep. And warm beside her. And no longer just a cold silhouette behind a desk. She was the woman who brushed her hand lightly at dinner. Who defended her, subtle but firm. Whosawher in rooms full of people trying to reduce her.
Riley let out a quiet breath, the ceiling blurring above her.
The silence pressed in thick and close. She could feel words building up in her throat, stupid, nervous, itchy words.
So she whispered them.
“Thank you for letting me come.”
Immediately, she winced. “I mean, notcomecome. Just… here. To Vermont. For this. Thing.”
Silence.
And then, so quiet Riley almost thought she imagined it, a laugh.
Small. Real. A breath of something warm under all the ice.
Elizabeth.
Riley smiled into the darkness, heart flipping over. “I really should stop talking. That would be smart.”
A pause. The sheets shifted slightly.
Then Elizabeth said, low and unguarded, “You’re fine.”
