Page 41 of Bite Your Tongue

“Love you too.” I look at Storm again. “Love you, Stormy boy.” I make an annoying kissy noise with my lips. “Merry Christmas, Gem.”

“Merry Christmas, Sails.” She smiles, and seconds later, we end the call.

I look at the time and almost jump for joy when I see I’m down to my last hour of work before tucking my phone back into my pocket.

I shouldn’t be this excited to hang out with a friend, but I’m eager to see what Ryder has in store for us tonight.

My mouth hangs open, and I think my heart stops beating. I may turn into a puddle on the sidewalk as I take in the sight before me.

Ryder stands there, next to a horse-drawn carriage. The boyish grin on his face makes the entire thing even more adorable, and even though we’re just friends, my knees feel weak.

When he starts my way, my legs move toward him, and suddenly, I feel nervous. Right away, I know that’s a red flag. If we really are just friends—which we are—I shouldn’t have butterflies the size of freaking Canadian geese flying in my stomach. But he looks so handsome right now and so proud of himself for pulling this off.

When he reaches me, he takes my hand. “I know you’re going to fight me on this, but just hear me out, okay? I know we’re only friends, so this can be pretend, but I’m here to take you on your firstrealdate, Saylor Sawyer.” Pulling my hand up, he presses a kiss to it before he lifts his other hand and holds out a single red rose. “What do you say? But just so you know, I fully expect that we’re going to treat this like an actual date, Brat, so you’d better play along.”

Slowly, I take the rose and peek at the stunning horses and the driver sitting at the front of the buggy. Unlike how this would be in New England with snow, it’s not a sleigh. But still, it’s just as perfect.

My cheeks hurt because I’m smiling so big.

“I wasn’t going to fight you,” I say, beaming at him. “Thank you, Ryder.”

“Merry Christmas, Saylor,” he says, leading me toward the carriage.

As I climb up into it, my heart squeezes in my chest when I take in the blankets and to-go cups of hot chocolate that he set up.

This may be a fake date, but it still beats the shit out of anything I’ve ever experienced.

I take a seat, and within seconds, his warm body is next to mine. I feel like I’ve landed in an adorable, small-town, Christmas romance movie. I know we’re not going to end up like all the couples in those movies, but I’m not going to think about that right now. I’m just going to enjoy this. And enjoy him.

“All set?” the driver calls back to us.

Ryder looks at me for affirmation. I give him a nod, and he grins.

“Yep, we’re ready,” he calls back.

Not a moment later, the horses are pulling us away from the hospital and toward the heart of Charleston. Even though there’s no snow, like there would be at home, everything is brightly lit, and shop windows are fully decorated. I’ve honestly never seen anything so perfect.

“This is … incredible,” I say, turning toward him. “Definitely the best first date ever.”

He’s looking at me in a certain way that I know he shouldn’t, but I also don’t want to stop him. He said himself that we have to act the part. I’m sure he’s just a really good actor.

“You deserve a perfect first date,” he says straightforwardly. “And I don’t care if we’re just friends. I want to be the man to give it to you.” Lifting his hand, he cups my cheek. “You know, with real,properdates … people kiss.”

“Do they now?” I say, lifting a brow. “Well, I mean, we don’t want this to be improper, do we?”

“No, we don’t,” he drawls.

His face dips toward mine, and I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve kissed, but it’ll be the first time we truly kiss just to kiss.

My heart flutters inside my chest as his lips slowly work against mine. I know this is only going to confuse my head and my heart—and, let’s be honest, I’m confused enough—but I don’t want to stop it, not when it’s so picture-perfect.

When he finally pulls away, it takes me a few seconds to pry my eyes back open because my body is still reeling from that kiss.

“That was … good,” I whisper, all breathy-like. “For a first date, I mean.”

The corner of his mouth tips up into a crooked grin, and he nods. “Good. I was hoping so.”

Putting his arm around me, he pulls me closer to him as we travel through Charleston. This Christmas might not be like all the others I’ve had, but that might not be a bad thing. I know this isn’t real, but I vow to myself I’m going to drink it all in like it is.

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