Page 23 of How He Got the Girl (Sweeter Than Fiction #2)

“Come on.” I nudge Mallory’s arm. “This is supposed to be a photo op for our next social media post. What better photo is there than one in front of the tree?”

“An invisible one,” she deadpans.

I tilt my head back and forth like I’m mulling over the idea. “I was thinking more like a kiss on the cheek with the glittering lights on the tree behind us.”

“If you insist. But do we have to sing?”

Mallory wraps her hand around my arm as we walk toward the tree.

The feel of it, even though she’s wearing gloves and I’m in a thick coat, causes goosebumps to trail across my skin.

I clear my throat. When I speak, my breath fogs in front of me.

“I thought you’d love it, having seen your caroling abilities. ”

“I was coerced into that performance by Daisy’s family, who take their caroling tradition way too seriously.”

“You looked really into it.”

“Yeah, because they told me I needed to sing and dance with more gusto after every house.” She sighs. “I’m thankful her family let me stay with them when I was snowed in, and I really love Daisy. But even you couldn’t pay me enough to carol with them again.”

I laugh. “I know no one is ever convincing you to do something you don’t want to.”

“You’ve got that right.”

If she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to, does that mean she wants to be my fake girlfriend?

Beyond the money, that is. I glance over at her, mesmerized by the silhouette of her face.

Her long eyelashes are gorgeous and draw more attention to the adorable freckles covering her cheeks and forehead.

Then there’s her hair that my fingers crave combing through again.

I shake my head. It’s too soon to be having these thoughts when the jury’s still out on whether she wants to spend time with me. But I can’t help but wish on every star tonight that Mallory is starting to enjoy being around me just as much as I like being around her.

After taking a sip of my cappuccino for a little liquid luck, I motion to the tree. “You ready for our next social media picture?”

“I have to be.” She slides her purse off, handing it to Alyssa, who reaches her hand out for it automatically.

Is this a normal girl thing? Holding your friend’s purse while they take pictures?

Shayna comes out of nowhere, taking both our cappuccinos.

Seriously, is there some kind of friend assembly line I don’t know about?

Kelsey holds a phone up as Mallory drags me in front of the tree.

“What pose do you want this time?” she asks. “You mentioned a kiss on the cheek, but our height difference may be a hindrance. We don’t want you looking like the Hunchback of Louisville.”

“I can fix that.” I bend down, wrapping my arms around her legs, under her butt, and lifting her into the air with ease.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is breathless.

“Getting rid of the height difference.” I smile as she scowls at me.

“Now, maybe keep one of your legs straight and pop the other foot up. And I’ll kiss you on the cheek if you want to look at the camera.

” Leaning my face toward hers, my nose brushes her cheek.

“Remember to look like you like me, beautiful.”

I close my eyes and press my lips to her cheek in a featherlight kiss. Her skin is cold beneath my lips. I’d spend all night warming it up with a thousand kisses if she were really mine.

“Okay, I got some good shots.” Kelsey’s voice breaks me out of the moment.

I blink, opening my eyes to find Mallory looking at me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to put together without the picture on the box—not impossible to solve, but harder to do without the full picture.

I don’t realize I’m just standing there staring at her until she presses her lips into a firm line. “Can you put me down?”

“Right.” I carefully set her back on her feet. “Sorry.”

Kelsey sends us the pictures, and I immediately select my favorite.

“Mind if I post this one?” I show it to Mallory, and she nods.

“That’s fine.”

I do a few small edits to lighten the photo and type up a quick caption: The only present I want under the tree this year.

I tag Mallory as a collaborator on the post and press the share button, which she quickly accepts.

“You might need to be the one to post the next picture. You could even do a story tonight, holding your drink with me in the background or something. We don’t want the relationship to look too one-sided. ”

“You’re probably right.” She slides her purse back on while I grab our drinks from Shayna. I hand Mallory hers and take a long drag of mine.

She pulls her phone back out, holding her drink out in front of her. “Say cappuccino.”

“Cappuccino.” I smile.

“What kind of words do people put on their stories?” She blushes. “Does that make me sound like a total social media newbie?”

“It’s refreshing.” I step behind her, looking at the photo over her shoulder.

Even though the focus is on the cup in the photo, the way I feel about her is written all over my face.

My stupid, lopsided, dopey grin that only she seems to pull out of me is plastered on my face, and my eyes are squinty but bright, filled with adoration for this woman.

I clear my throat. “People handle stories a lot of different ways, but you can tag my username in it, if you’d like, and put emojis or a few words on it.”

She bites her bottom lip while typing for a minute. “How’s this?” Mallory hands me her phone while she sips on her drink.

In the bottom right corner of the screen, she added the words I only have ice for you, followed by the eyes emoji.

My hopeless romantic heart pounds in my chest. The little traitor. “That’s perfect. Very punny.”

“I thought you’d like it. Seemed like it matched the lovesick expression you were going for.”

I’m not sure whether to celebrate or feel devastated by the fact that she thinks I’m acting. Is that why she’s seemed so confused since I ran into her again?

“Posted.” She looks up at me with a small smile. “My first story.”

“Congratulations, you’ve officially graduated from social media school.” I glance over at the carolers as they begin to sing “Joy to the World.” I cock my head. “That’s my favorite carol.”

Mallory’s eyes light up as she takes on a nostalgic look. “Mine, too.” With a sigh, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward them. “Come on before I change my mind, Mr. Razzle-Dazzle.”

Under the glow of the Christmas tree lights, singing my favorite carol with the woman I’m head over heels for right beside me, I’ve never felt happier.

I can’t think about the idea that she may never come around without feeling a deep pain in my chest. Plus, I’m sure the media would have a field day if a leading man in Hollywood couldn’t even land his dream girl.

But I’d rather every tabloid talk about me being forever alone than be with anyone else.

Because no one would ever match up to Mallory.