I try to take a step backward, but Luca’s arm is around me, holding me in place. This feels like a family event. But it dawns on me that, in a small way, and in the minds of his family, I am now part of the family.
That fact settles in my stomach like a stone.
“Well, I was hoping we could plan a time for us all to get together for lunch,” Blair says, like her daughter isn’t angrily scrolling beside her.
“Mom, it’s not really that serious yet—” Luca tries, but his mom barrels on like he hasn’t even spoken.
“When are you leaving for the holidays? Maybe we could get together this week?”
I blink at her, then realize she thinks I’ll be flying somewhere to gohomefor the holidays. I hadn’t given it much thought, other than Uncle Vic asking me to go out for a pint with him on Christmas Eve. He’s got his own family to think about, and I know they have complicated feelings about me.
“Oh.” I shift, finding it hard to concentrate with the feeling of Luca’s arm around my waist. “I’ve just got my grandma here, so I’ll probably visit her. But other than that—”
“Mom,” Luca tries to interject again. “Really, she’s not—”
“Wait.” Gerald’s brow wrinkles, looking like he’s just heardverybad news. “Am I hearing you have no plans for the holidays?”
“Well,” I laugh, “I didn’t saythat. I’ve got a bottle of wine with my name on it—”
“Absolutely not,” Blair gasps, her hand flying up to her heart. Luca’s from Colorado, I know that, but these two are the most Midwestern couple I’ve ever met in my life. “You’ll come to our place—we have plenty of room.”
Sloane steps away from the conversation, bringing her phone to her ear, so maybe she doesn’t hear her mom say that. Or maybe she doesn’t mind. Maybe it’s common for their parents to invite near-strangers to their holidays.
“No, that’s okay—” I try again.
“Weinsist,” Blair says. “The idea of you home all alone will ruin Christmas, and I’m sure Luca will want you there—”
“Mom,” he presses, for the third time, “I’m sure Wren wants the day off. Not everyone wants to spend the day with a huge, crazy family.”
The sound of that makes something pang in my chest. It reminds me of every Christmas I spent on my own in some foreign, fancy hotel room while Dad darted out to meet a woman, or do a job, or just drink in the bar on his own.
Surrounded by luxury, with a fake credit card I could use to get whatever I wanted, and feeling impossibly leaden anyway.
“Do you have any allergies?” Blair asks, pulling out her phone and opening the notes app. “We normally have ham, turkey, fish—oh, are you a vegetarian?”
“No,” I say lamely, mind racing for an excuse not to come to this holiday. “No allergies.”
Maybe it’s the pressure of their kind eyes, or the weight of Luca’s arm around my waist—which feels so, so real. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fact that deep down… Iwantto come.
It will mean lying to his family, adding another layer to this thing, playing fake girlfriend for more than just the press. But when I think of a warm living room, matching Christmas sweaters, laughing and playing board games together, I’m almost sick with envy.
It’s something I’ll never have.
So maybe, just this once, I could.
Luca’s arm tightens around me, and when he tips his head down to look at me, I can read the expression plainly on his face.Say no. You don’t have to do this.
“Tell me how to spell your name,” Blair says, looking up with bright eyes. “You’ll be coming with Luca, right?”
I glance between him and his mom, then hear myself say, “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
Luca
“Don’tget sucked into anything Katie says,” I warn, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel as we turn down the road to my parents’ house. “She always drinks too much Bailey’s during the holidays.”
“…Katie is your cousin, right?” Wren asks from the passenger seat, and even knowing I shouldn’t, I glance over at her.
There’s nothing about her outfit that should make me feel like this. Her lumpy, ugly Christmas sweater is a far cry from the little black dress she was wearing for our date, but it’s having the same, weird effect on me. Making my skin hot, my eyes hot, my mouth dry.
