Page 85 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

I want to… cry? Scream? Go back in time?I don’t know.

Darla pulls me into a hug that threatens to squeeze the cynicism right out of me. As I sit there, enveloped in her warmth and the scent of rum cake, I feel something inside me start to crumble.

After she finally releases me, I can’t stop staring at the image, a lump forming in my throat the size of my emotional baggage.

“Maybe next year we can dress up as Dolly Parton through the decades,” I say, surprising myself.

Her face lights up, a blazing supernova of pure joy. “You wanna plan the photo with me? Now that’s a dream come true!”

My stomach sinks with an anchor of regret.

What am I doing?

This isn’t real. I’m not part of this family.

Hell, I’m not even Ethan’s girlfriend.

I don’t belong here.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ethan

‘Tis the season towear a candy cane sock on your junk.

I’m sprawled out on my bed in a, let’s say strategic position. I’ve been looking forward to getting my favorite director back in the sheets all day, hoping she’s down for some holiday fun. The door flies open, and Chase barges in. Her eyes are frenzied, distress all over her face. My playful demeanor vanishes, and I’m fully alert.

“Where are the fucking keys?” she demands, her voice tight with desperation. “I need to get out of here.”

She’s trashing my room faster than a reality TV show makeover.

I sit up, totally confused. “Whoa, whoa. You need me to drive you somewhere?”

“No! I just need to be gone.”

I give my candy cane one last sorrowful glance then quickly throw on some pants and a shirt. She’s going through my things like a whirlwind, and I’m totally lost, but I join her anyway.

Whatever her reasons, I need to help her.

I start riffling through my pockets as Chase spots the keys on my desk. “There!”

She lunges and accidentally knocks over the challenge jar of dare slips. Red and green papers scatter everywhere, exploding across the floor like confetti. Her eyes dart from paper to paper, and she freezes.Uh-oh.

I watch her face change—her eyes widen as the pieces fall into place. Confusion overtakes the panic, followed by a moment of realization, and then, finally, pure rage.

“Kiss an alligator, kiss an alligator… These all say the same thing.” Her eyes snap to mine, blazing. “You set me up. You LIED to me. You knew!”

I hold up my hands, trying to calm her. “Of course I knew. It was my idea.”

“I thought Nolan wrote them!”

“What’s the big deal?” I ask, genuinely confused. “You’re not an actor, Chase. We needed an authentic reaction. You, more than anyone, should understand.”

I reach for her, needing to console, to explain, but she pulls away like my touch is fire.

“Chase, it was about the fans. Nothing more.”

“Oh my God,” she whispers, and I see tears forming in her eyes. “Of course, the fans. I’m such an idiot. I thought—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head and wiping away tears.

---