Page 26 of Her Holiday Arrangement

Riley turned her head toward the sound of her voice, cautious, curious. “You’re awake.”

“I was asleep until you thanked me for letting you… come come.”

“Ugh,” Riley groaned, covering her face. “This is why I don’t do sincerity. My mouth sabotages me every time.”

Elizabeth was quiet again, but this time it wasn’t cold. It felt like she was waiting. Listening.

Riley swallowed. The dark felt safer somehow, like a cocoon wrapped around her awkwardness. The kind of space where she could say things she never would in the light.

So she asked the thing that had been tugging at her since day one.

“Why me?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer right away. Riley almost thought she wouldn’t.

“I mean,” she continued, softer now, “you could’ve picked someone else. Someone… better at this. More polished. Who knows which fork is for fish without having to Google it.”

Still silence. But not dismissive. It felt like Elizabeth was choosing her words with care.

Then finally: “Because I trust you.”

The words landed like a soft blow. Unexpected. Heavy in the best way.

Riley blinked, breath caught.

Of all the answers—beauty, availability, convenience—she hadn’t expectedthat.

She turned fully now, shifting gently under the duvet until she was on her side, facing Elizabeth. The faint outline of her face came into view, just enough to see the curve of her cheek, the rise of her shoulder. The dark made it easier to be close. Intimate. Honest.

Her heart thundered in her chest.

“Trust me with what?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

Elizabeth was lying on her back, gaze fixed on the ceiling, like she couldn’t bear to meet Riley’s eyes, even in the dark. “With… my family. My reputation. My name.”

Riley stared at her, stunned. “That’s a lot.”

“I know.”

There was a beat. And then, quieter, “I also trust you not to make fun of me for saying that.”

A soft laugh escaped Riley before she could stop it. “Oh no. It’s too late. I’m absolutely going to tease you for this the moment the sun rises.”

“I figured.”

But neither of them was smiling in the way they usually did, bright, quick, guarded. This smile was slower. Gentle. Real.

And now they were lying there, facing each other in the dark, close enough to feel breath and body heat and something else, something electric that hung in the inches between them like static waiting to spark.

Riley could see Elizabeth’s eyes now. Just faintly. Focused, unreadable. But she didn’t pull away.

Neither of them did.

Riley’s pulse pounded in her ears. Her hand itched to move, just a touch. Just to prove that this wasn’t all in her head.

But she didn’t.

Because this wasn’thers, not really. It wasn’t real. And still, her body ached with the truth of wanting it to be.