Page 25 of Perfectly Faked

“I get it. Skating doesn’t leave room for much else,” Sloan says, mixing up a new batch of dough in the mixer.

“How did you learn?” I ask, gesturing to the spread, which looks straight out of a holiday magazine.

“Granny,” Jaz says proudly. “She taught us that food is love. Even when we were stubborn teenagers, she’d throw us an apron and tell us, ‘Take that anger out on some bread dough.’”

“Well, I’d love to learn something other than heating up frozen dinners,” I say. “Especially after the day I’ve had.”

I’m not just talking about the pipe bursting in my apartment, but Leo making me blush countless times. If picturing the dough as his smug face and giving it a few solid punches qualifies as stress relief, then I’ve just found the most satisfying form of therapy.

“We’ll start with the basics,” Sloan says, demonstrating how to knead dough.

When I try, I pound on the dough, and flour flies everywhere. After a few messy attempts, I finally manage to shape something resembling a lumpy knot.

“I did it! Well, kind of...” I tilt my head and squint so it appears more like Sloan’s perfectly shaped bread knots. “If you don’t look too closely.”

“Great job for your first try!” Jaz says, then looks me over and bites back a smile. “But you might need a shower before the party.”

I glance down at my flour-covered outfit, which now resembles a snowman costume.

When I look up, Sloan has her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “Just don’t look in the mirror. Because it’s all over your face too.”

Just then, the door slams in the front hall. “Jaz, I got the extra lights!”

I freeze at the sound of Leo’s voice, then press myself against the side of the fridge, trying to hide.

“Is that Leo?” I whisper to Jaz and Sloan, my stomach flipping.

They nod as Leo continues his monologue from the front hall. “They didn’t have the exact ones in the store, but these should match close enough.”

“What is he doing here two hours early?” I hiss under my breath.

“He’s not early,” Sloan says. “He’s replacing the broken outdoor Christmas lights for the party. Why are you hiding?”

“I don’t want him to see me just yet,” I say in a panicked whisper. “Is there somewhere I can hide?”

“Your bedroom,” Jaz suggests. “But you’d need to sneak upstairs without him noticing. You want me to distract him while you make a run for it?”

“Jaz, did you hear me?” Leo’s footsteps grow louder in the hall, and I shoo Jaz away from me.

“One second!” Jaz yells, then turns to me and whispers, “As soon as I take him out the front door, make a run for it.”

She scurries off to stop Leo before he discovers me hiding in the kitchen. “Hey, Leo, can you check the giant inflatable Santa out front? I think he’s deflating.”

“But I just came from the store,” he groans. “And you do not need another inflatable Santa playing hockey.”

“Oh, don’t be a grump,” Jaz reminds him sweetly. “You want to help a pregnant lady, don’t you? That Santa is my favorite.”

Leo lets out an agonized sigh before the door slams. Sloan peeks down the hall, then gives me a thumbs-up. “Coast is clear, but you might want to clean up before he returns and heads to his room.”

I blink. “What do you mean? Don’t tell me he lives here?”

Sloan stares at me blankly. “He rents a room along with Tate. Before we were married, we were having trouble paying the mortgage, and the guys needed a room... and now we can’t get them to leave.” She laughs to herself before looking over at me. “Is that a problem for you?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I lie.

It’s not fine.I had assumed Leo would have a private cave where he could brood in solitude, not live in a place that’s more like an old-fashioned boarding house.

“It was supposed to be temporary until an apartment opened up,” Sloan says, sliding a tray of snowman cookies into the oven. “But they’ve become a second family in a way.”

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