Page 52 of Fake It Till We Fall
At least not the way I wanted it to.
Chapter Fourteen
Harper
The dining room was lit almost entirely by candles, flames flickering against the tall windows that looked out over the snowy slope, lit up for night skiing. Soft flakes of snow fell around the strings of lights that twinkled in the pines outside, reflecting off the glass, giving the whole place the effect of being inside a snow globe.
Trickle Creek did like their Christmas lights, but I had to admit, they really did add to the overall atmosphere and turn everything into a scene right out of a movie.
It was perfect.
I sat across from Grayson, happy I’d packed a dress suitable for the occasion. It was form-fitting, skimming my body, with just enough cleavage, but not too much. I’d curled my hair into loose waves that hung over my bare shoulders, and even applied a little makeup.
I held a glass of wine in my hand and tried to focus on the delicious-looking food. Tried and failed.
Truthfully, the food was exquisite, but that’s not what had my pulse tripping. It washim.
Grayson.
Dressed in a button-down grey shirt with the top two buttons undone, his shirtsleeves rolled up just enough to showcase his strong forearms, flexing every time he lifted his own glass, he’d never looked sexier.
But maybe it was the way the candlelight softened the hard lines of his jaw, or the slightest bit of stubble he’d let grow in over the last few days. Or maybe it was the way his gaze lingered on me just a little bit too long when he thought I wasn’t looking. The way he smiled at me had my stomach flipping like I was eighteen again.
And more than anything, it was how easy it all felt with him. Laughing, teasing, and talking about nothing and everything all at the same time. It was like no time at all had passed between us. Even better, it was just us. No Tilley. No Grandma. No one watching to see what we were going to do or not do.
I wanted to lean into the feeling with him. I wanted it so badly, it ached.
I forced myself to focus on the plate of steak and mashed potatoes in front of me. It was cooked perfectly, the mash creamy and flavorful. The medium-rare beef melted in my mouth. “This is delicious. I’m impressed.”
“Trickle Creek is turning into quite the destination,” he said. “We’re attracting all kinds of talent now.” He put his fork in his mouth thoughtfully. “Including some very talented chefs.” He eyed me knowingly as he chewed.
“I can’t disagree,” I said, noncommittally. “Trickle Creek really has changed since the last time I was here. A lot of things have.”
“Oh yeah?”
I set my fork down and reached for my wineglass again, buying myself a second to avoid his question. “Why didn’t you ever date anyone, Grayson?”
“Excuse me?”
I shrugged, trying to appear casual when I felt anything but. “Seriously? How are you single after all this time?”
He leaned back, studying me in the low light, then finally shook his head. “I guess, no one else ever felt right after you.”
The words hit harder than they should have, rattling something loose inside me.
I tried to laugh and lighten the moment. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “Very.”
“No one in fifteen years measured up to silly, eighteen-year-old me?”
His mouth curved slightly, but his eyes were serious. “Not even close.” He let that sink in before he added, “And for the record, you were never silly.”
My heart stuttered, and for a second, just one, I let myself believe him.
And then the old wound opened. The one I’d worked for years to heal and put behind me. He’d walked away from me once before. He’d looked me in the eyes and told me he didn’t love me.
He’d crushed me.
