Faking Christmas

A glint hit Glenn’s eyes as he took Miles’s measure. “And what do you do?”

“I teach English with Olive.”

He stepped back, looking between us both before he started laughing. “Both of you? Oh geez. I’ll bet you have some crazy Friday nights, busting out Shakespeare or whatever those boring books were that Olive used to read all the time.”

Miles looked as though he found something amusing—not Glenn so much, but something. Looking down at me, he said, “Sometimes she writes me love notes.” I pinched his side, and he did the same to mine.

Glenn scoffed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe there are two of you.”

My foot twitched inside my boot. Something niggled. I could handle Glenn’s comments—the snide, underhanded rudeness covered by a charming smile. I knew to expect them, but it really rubbed me wrong that Glenn was doing the same to Miles. I mean, to me, Miles was the worst. But to everybody else, he was beloved. Just because he wasn’t my cup of tea didn't mean I wanted my ex-boyfriend to put him down. Although…it shouldn’t have mattered. I should have kept my mouth shut. It would only add fuel to Miles’s fire later on, but I couldn’t help it.

I folded my arms and tried to seem nonchalant with my praise, but my heart was pounding. “Miles is an author, actually. He was just picked up by a big publisher to finish out his series. He’s also quite the adventurer–rock climbing in the summer and skiing black diamonds in the winter. ” I should have stopped there, but all reason left me and I kept going. “And he still finds time to write me love notes.”

Glenn raised his eyebrows. “I thought you wrote him love notes.”

When I had the nerve to actually look at Miles, he had a grin on his face. “I help her find the right words, so they’re actually from both of us by the time we finish.” He pulled me closer and kissed me on the temple before I could blink.

I stiffened into a stone statue when warm lips from Miles Taylor touched my face.

Don’t think. Don’t react. Normal boyfriend behavior.

DON’T THINK.

Glenn stared at Miles, disbelievingly, for a long moment. “What do you write? Romance?”

Miles stared deeply into my eyes for a few too many long, agonizing moments. He seemed to enjoy working over his crowd and making everybody, including me, uncomfortable. The payback had already begun. “Maybe someday.”

Okay. We had to reel this in or else Glenn would know something was up. I gave Miles a warning look.

“He writes middle-grade adventure,” I said.

“Kid books?”

Miles cleared his throat, this time looking less amused. “What is it you do?”

Glenn smiled tightly. “I’m an acquisitions manager for a manufacturing company outside of Boston.”

“Sounds like a mouthful.”

Glenn smirked. “Pays the bills.”

By this point, both men were still smiling, but it felt more like rabid dogs bearing their teeth.

“Well, it’s been nice seeing you again, Glenn.” I smiled up at him, giving him a gracious hint that it was time to move on. My body was in a flurry of agitation. I needed Glenn gone, Miles to stop touching me, and this whole miserable night over before my pounding heart went into cardiac arrest.

“Yeah. I should go and sit by my parents for a bit. I hear we’re neighbors, though.” He gave me a pointed look. “Maybe I’ll swing by later tonight and throw some rocks at your window like old times. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He shot me a satisfied look before nodding toward Miles and moving past us into the main room. My body felt ten pounds lighter at his exit.

“He seems sweet,” Miles said.

I carefully stepped away from his arm. My gaze went to the floor, for some reason unable to meet his eye. This whole thing was nothing I had bargained or prepared for. Out of some psychotic burst of Tourette’s, I had said his name to my sister last night. He was never supposed to know. And yet, here he was. Almost as if I had ordered myself a boyfriend for the week. It was disconcerting, and I needed to end this now.

“Well, thanks for…that. I’m really sorry for this whole weird mess. I’ll figure out something to tell my family tonight.”

“What are you going to say?”

I shrugged, still finding the floor fascinating. “I’ll just tell everyone we broke up.”

He snorted. “No way.”

My eyes flitted up to his. “Why not?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re gonna let them think I broke up with my girlfriend a week before Christmas? No. I’m not gonna be that guy.”

“Fine. I broke up with you.”

He shot me an impatient look. “They’d never believe that.”

I scoffed, feeling annoyed at the sparkle in his eye. “You know, they really might.”

“Nope. I say we’re in it for the whole week.”

My eyebrows raised in shock. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say.

“No. We’re breaking up tonight,” I hissed. One thing was for sure–with the way my traitorous body reacted to him, I could only date Miles Taylor when Miles Taylor had no idea we were dating.

“Olive, who is this?” Mom came walking into the foyer with an expectant smile on her face, with Chloe trailing behind her.

Miles and I were suddenly two deer very much in the headlights. I stood frozen, unsure of what to do given the last bit of our conversation.

Miles shoved his hands in his pockets and eyed me with amused curiosity, awaiting my move. He was going to let me lead, but consequentially, effort-wise, he was going to make me come one hundred percent to his zero.

“You didn’t wait for me, Miles.” Chloe stood with her hands on her hips, peering back and forth between us. She was looking slightly pale and like a strong wind might topple her, but that didn’t stop her from staring at me with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. Suspicion? My brow furrowed slightly. Miles was here. By default, she had to believe me now, right? She raised her eyebrows at me. Waiting.

Apparently her obsession with true-crime podcasts was paying off. She was like Sherlock freaking Holmes, sniffing for clues. Something inside of me couldn’t let her know she was right—not yet, at least. And not in front of everyone. Somebody had to prove to her that I wasn’t the liar I actually was.

I stepped closer to Miles and linked my arm through his. He gave me an over-the-top alluring grin. I mentally cringed at what this would cost me later.

“So, you’re the handsome boy we’ve been hearing about?” Mom asked, looking up at Miles.

Okay, gag me. I didn’t appreciate her insinuation that I talked about him all the time. And I would never call him handsome—especially to his face. That word was for the romance books hidden secretly on my Kindle. Not for Miles Taylor.

Before I could answer, Miles leaned forward, reaching out to shake my mom’s hand. “I’m Miles. I work with your sister.”

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