Page 29 of The Replacement Fiance

I take a step toward her. "You're cold."

"We can start a fire."

"I'm afraid we started one before now, but you're right. We should."

"A real fire."

I nod. "Yes. A real one."

The air between us feels like it's charged with something we've never spoken out loud since the charade began. Between stolen glances and not-so-accidental brushes of her hand against mine or mine against hers, it's there and it's unmistakable. I want so much to kiss her, and not because someone is watching us or that we're pretending. I'm way past that now and I'm willing to lay everything out on the table.

"My parents designated this one as our playhouse when we were younger," she begins nervously, as if needing words to fill the silence between us. "We used to hold tea parties in here with our dolls and the fully furnished doll houses my dad built us until one day, we all outgrew them and moved away."

"And now you're back." I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Only I don't want to pretend anymore." Mariah bites her lower lip as she rests her hand on my chest. "Definitely not right now."

I take a step closer. "I don't want to either."

"I want everything on the table for us right now, Logan," she whispers. "But only if it's real."

My mouth hovers over hers. I feel her breath warm against my upper lip. "It's always been real, Mariah."

The kiss that follows comes from both of us, lips meeting with a desperation that's been building all night, maybe even longer. Mariah tastes of vanilla and honey, of shyness and a vulnerability I've never seen before this moment when all the masks finally come down and it's just us. No more masks. No more pretense.

Her arms circle my neck, the scent of lavender and patchouli engulfing my senses. The feel of her body pressing against mine reminds me that this is real, that she's really here with me. Our tongues swirl together as we kiss with a fervor that threatens to overtake every rational thought in my brain. I want to touch her skin, feel her naked body against mine. I want so much to kiss all her fears away and remind her that everything before now is the past. It's over and it's done.

But as I fist her hair in my hand, my other hand slipping inside her coat to feel her warm skin, I also can't allow myself to continue, not when the reality is, we're in the middle of a charade. I want everything from her, but I also want to do it the right way.

I pull away, out of breath, and cup her face in my hands. "Mariah, we need to talk."

"What about?"

"When we get back, we need to tell them the truth. I mean it. If this is how we feel for each other, I want no more pretense between us, no more games."

Her brow furrows as if she didn't understand what I just said. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" I ask. "Then we don't have to hide anything from them. I like you. In fact, I more than like you, and what's happening between us shouldn't be done under a charade."

"You mean, tell them the truth? I can't do that."

"Why not?" I ask. "You can tell them I'm your friend and it's true. It's certainly a better story than telling them I'm some escort you hired off the Internet. Or worse, I'm filling in for the escort you hired off the internet."

She doesn't answer right away but I see the fear in her eyes. Shame, too. "Haven't you seen how happy we've made them? My parents love you... us. I can't ruin that now."

"They love a version of us that's not real, at least not yet. Worse, they love a version of me that's not real. It's me, yes, because I sure haven't lied about the way I feel for you, but it doesn't change the fact that the fiancé you brought home with you is a fabrication, a made-up story so you could prove to your ex-boyfriend—not your family, but your ex-boyfriend and your former friend who have only seen us once—that you've moved on... that you're not alone anymore." I pause, hating how we've come to this point. "But the problem is, Elliot and Minerva aren't the ones bearing the brunt of the lie. It's your family. Can't you see, Mariah? The longer we keep this up, the more you're proving them right, that you haven't moved on at all."

Mariah doesn't say anything. Her hands are balled into fists along her sides and she's breathing hard. "You're wrong. I have moved on."

"How can you say that when you can't even admit to yourself that this charade is wrong? Even you know it or you wouldn't have panicked after your mother suggested we get married right here." I pause, rubbing the back of my neck. "But that's what I'm telling you right now, Mariah, and I'm telling you this as your friend, as someone who's known you for the last three years and have always admired you... as someone who's always liked you more than you know. Let's come clean to them. They're your family."

My phone buzzes from my jeans pocket again and as much as I hate having to check who's calling, I need the distraction. I need something to stop me from telling Mariah the next line, that I've fallen in love with her.

Merry Xmas! Heard you're in town. We need to catch up. Call me. Chad.

I slip my phone back into my back pocket, not wanting to text a response in front of Mariah even though every fiber of my being wants to call Chad and tell him to pick me up. I need space, space from the lie that's eating me up from the inside.

"Look, Logan, I understand you don't want to continue and I get it," she says slowly. "But I'm not telling them anything. I'm going to stick to the plan. And if that's a problem for you, I'm sorry. But I can't tell them the truth now."

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