Page 23 of Fake It Till We Fall
I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine for the first time in over a decade.
The kiss was tentative at first, his lips just barely touching mine. But the second I let myself lean into him, everything shifted. Heat pulsed through me as his mouth pressed deeper to mine. Everything about the kiss leveled up.
My knees went weak. I clutched at his jacket to keep myself upright.
Fake.
It was all supposed to be fake. Just for show, for anyone who might be looking out the window or passing through the plaza.
But as his lips lingered, soft and sure, there was absolutely nothing fake about the way my entire body lit up from the inside out.
Chapter Seven
Grayson
The last few days had been insane. I was practically running on fumes after a rush of delivery orders at the hardware store, more part-time staff calling out sick, and, of course, all the minute issues that never failed to pop up when it came to town festivals. Especially because I was the guy everyone called when they needed something.
But through all the chaos, one thing kept playing on repeat in my head.
The kiss.
The way Harper’s lips felt on mine—familiar, yet so different, after all the years that had passed between us.
The way that every single buried feeling I thought I’d left behind me had rushed back and slammed into my heart with that one single kiss had thrown me. Hard.
I’d never stopped thinking about Harper.
Not really. I’d just learned how to live with the ache instead.
Even when years had passed and my brothers forced me on occasion to try dating, and I’d taken a woman out—or even back to my bed—the memory of Harper was always there.
I’d assumed it would fade in time.
It hadn’t. Not really.
And now she was back.
The plaza was packed, glowing under the dozens of strands of lights that I’d personally strung. I had to admit, it looked good. It always did. The main reason I agreed years ago to help out with this particular festival was because I had a soft spot for Christmas lights.
And the girl whose eyes used to light up every time we walked hand in hand under them.
I spotted that girl—now a woman—through the crowd.
It took me a few minutes to make my way to her. I dodged excited children darting between the fire pits, with candy canes and mugs of hot chocolate in their hands.
I circled the smores station, and joined Harper on the other side of the fire pit, where she was standing with Charli and Symon Scott as if she hadn’t been gone for over a decade. Something loosened in me seeing her there, part of everything again, talking with our old friends.
I walked toward her, swallowing down the feelings that had only been growing since the last time I’d seen her.
“There you are,” Charli said as I reached them. She gave me a quick hug, and I kissed her on the cheek before saying hi to Symon and booping their little girl, Poppy, on the nose. “We were just talking about you.”
“Were you?” I directed the question to Harper as I slipped my arm around her and pulled her close.
She offered up a little shrug, but it was Symon who spoke up.
“We were just saying how it’s just like old times,” he said. “The four of us hanging out.”
“Only we weren’t dating back then.” Charli nudged him in the ribs, and he laughed.
