Festive Facade

He smiled, a small, genuine thing. “It’s not exactly a hardship, Rossi.” His gaze roamed over my face. “You’re really stressed about this pop-up, huh?”

I sighed, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. “Yeah. It’s… a lot. I put everything into it. Savings, time, all of it. If it fails…”

“It won’t,” he said, his voice certain. “You’re amazing at what you do, Bri. Anyone can see that.”

I blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “You’ve never even eaten at my pop-op.”

“I don’t need to,” he said simply. “I know you. You don’t do anything halfway.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off my cheek. His fingers lingered, warm against my skin. “You’re incredible, Bri. Don’t ever doubt that.”

My breath caught. The air in the room suddenly felt charged, thick with something I didn’t dare name. “Reggie…”

“Shh,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of my jaw. “Just let me say this. I’ve wanted to say it for a long time.”

My heart pounded against my ribs. “Say what?”

“That I like you, Brianna Rossi. I like you a lot. Not just as Ethan’s sister. Not as a friend.” His eyes were dark, intense. “As more.”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare at him, my mind reeling. This was Reggie. My brother’s best friend. My fake boyfriend. And he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Bri,” he whispered, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against my lips. “Can I kiss you?”

I nodded, just the barest movement of my head. And then his lips were on mine, gentle and perfect. It was nothing like I’d imagined. It was better. So much better.

He kissed me slowly, deeply, like he was savoring every moment. My hands gripped his shirt, drawing him near. I didn’t care about the rules anymore, about the fake relationship or my brother or any of it. All I cared about was him. About the way he made me feel.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. “Wow,” he breathed.

I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Wow.”

He opened his eyes, his gaze finding mine. “So,” he said, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. “What now?”

I took a deep breath, my decision made. “Now,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “We stop pretending.”

The next few days passed in a blur of stolen glances, lingering touches, and a giddy, bubbling joy that I couldn’t quite contain. We still played the part of the happy couple for my family, but now, it didn’t feel like playing. It felt real. It felt right.

Reggie kept his promise about the skiing lesson, dragging me out onto the bunny slope early one morning. I wobbled and fell more times than I could count, but he was patient, his hands steadying me on the snow, his laughter warm in the crisp mountain air. “You’re a natural, Rossi,” he teased as I face-planted for the tenth time.

“Shut up,” I grumbled, spitting out snow. But I was smiling, genuinely, for the first time in a long time. Being with Reggie, away from the stress of the pop-up, felt like taking a full breath after years of holding it in.

Back at the cabin, we stole moments wherever we could. A lingering kiss in the pantry while grabbing more sugar for the sufganiyot. His hand finding mine under the table during family game night. Sharing a blanket on the sofa, his arm around my shoulders, my head on his chest. It all felt so natural, so easy. Like we’d been doing it for years.

As Hanukkah ended and New Year’s approached, the energy in the cabin shifted. Excitement hummed in the air, a constant, thrumming beat. My pop-up was closed for the week, a decision that had seemed impossible just days ago but now felt like the best choice I’d ever made. I was present, really present, for the first time in longer than I could remember.

On New Year’s Eve, the cabin transformed. Twinkling lights were strung from the rafters, music played softly in the background, and the air smelled of cinnamon and pine. My family laughed and chatted, drinks in hand, as we waited for the countdown. Reggie and I moved through the festivities together, his hand a steady, comforting weight at the small of my back.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I slipped away from the crowd, moving to an unoccupied spot to check it.

The message was from Reggie. Just three words, but they sent my heart racing.

*Meet me at midnight?*

I looked up, my eyes finding his across the room. He was watching me, a subtle, private smile on his lips. I nodded, just the barest dip of my chin, and his smile widened.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of anticipation. I counted down the minutes, my nerves tingling, my pulse thrumming under my skin. Every glance from Reggie, every brush of his hand against mine, felt charged, electric. This was really happening. This was real.

The countdown began, the voices around us rising in excitement. "Ten... nine... eight..." I mouthed the words, my attention fixed on Reggie across the room. He was watching me, a slight smile on his lips, his eyes warm and full of promise.

"Seven... six... five..." My heart pounded in time with the count, my palms suddenly damp. This was it. The moment everything changed. The moment our pretend romance became something real.

"Four... three... two..." I took a step towards him, and then another, drawn by the look in his eyes. The crowd around us faded away, their voices becoming a distant buzz. All I could see was him.

"One... Happy New Year!" The shout went up, cheers and laughter filling the air. Confetti rained down, sparklers sizzled, horns blew. But I barely noticed any of it.

Because Reggie was there, right in front of me, his hands reaching for mine. "Happy New Year, Bri," he said, his voice low, meant only for me.

"Happy New Year, Reggie," I whispered back. And then his lips were on mine, and everything else fell away.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of lips, a promise of more. But it deepened quickly, turning hot and urgent, filled with all the pent-up longing of the past week. His hands slid into my hair, drawing me closer, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on tight.

He kissed me like I was the air he needed to breathe, like he never wanted to stop. And I kissed him back with everything I had, pouring all my feelings into that one, perfect moment. The fake dating scheme, the pretense, the rules – none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was him. Was us.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads resting together. Around us, the party continued, but we were in our own little world.

Reggie smiled down at me, his eyes soft. "Well," he murmured. "That was... wow."

I laughed, my cheeks flushed, my heart full. "Wow is right." I reached up, brushing a stray bit of confetti from his hair. "So... what now?"

He grinned, that charming, cocky grin I loved so much. "Now," he said, taking my hand and drawing me towards the dance floor, "we celebrate. Together."

As he pulled me into his arms, swaying gently to the music, I knew this was just the beginning. Our fake relationship had been a facade, but what we had now was real. And I couldn't wait to see where it would take us.

Later, back in the quiet of my childhood bedroom, Reggie held me close, his lips grazing my temple. "Thank you, Bri," he murmured. "For taking a chance on me. On us."

I smiled, nestling closer. "Thank you for being my fake boyfriend," I teased. "Best decision I ever made."

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Fake no more," he said, his voice soft. "This is real, Bri. You and me. We're real."

"Yes," I whispered, my heart full. "We're real."

As I drifted off to sleep in his arms, I knew that no matter what the new year brought, we would face it together. Our festive facade had become something true, something beautiful. Something that would last long after the decorations were packed away and the snow had melted.

Back in the city, the stainless steel counters of my pop-up kitchen still gleamed, ready for the busy season ahead. But now, I faced them with a new sense of calm, a new certainty. Reggie had shown me that there was more to life than work, more to the holidays than stress and obligation. He’d shown me joy, and laughter, and the warmth of being truly seen and cherished.

And as I plated the first dish of the new year, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. The pop-up was still my dream, my passion. But now, I had another dream, too. One that involved a charming ski instructor, a snowy mountain cabin, and a love that had started as a festive facade but had become so much more.

“Order up,” I called, sliding the plate across the pass. And then I pulled out my phone, a grin tugging at my lips, and sent a quick text.

*Miss you already. Only 51 weeks until next Hanukkah.* I paused, then added, *But I can’t wait that long to see you. Dinner tonight?*

His reply came almost instantly. *Always, Rossi. Always.*