Page 119 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

He pulls my hand to his chest, pressing it flat against him, right over the frantic, hammering thud of his heart.

“Can you feel it?” His voice is low, rough at the edges, vibrating right against my palm. “The way it’s in pain when you’re hurting?”

I look up, but before I can find his eyes, he hauls me closer, wrapping both arms around me.

“Do you know how your tears still haunt me?” His voice softens. “Do you know how it kills me when you’re hurting? Do you know how badly I want to protect you from all of it—to tell you that I will never do that to you?”

My fingers curl into his shirt, gripping tight.

“You don’t know that.” The words come out barely above a whisper. “You think you do, but what happens when the shine wears off? When, one day, you wake up and realize you want something else? It will be so much worse because it’syou.”

I shove at his chest, fighting the pull of his warmth, the way it wraps around me too easily. But he doesn’t move.

“It won’t be your fault, Asher. It’ll be mine.” My voice breaks. “The best way to protect us is to go back to what we were. Never do what we just did again. And eventually, time will wash these feelings away. They’ll pass. Please.”

“It won’t.”

His arm cinches tighter around my waist. The rough heat of his breath skims my hair, uneven and strained.

“It’s been fifteen years, Isla. Fifteen years of feelings. It doesn’t pass. Itwillnot pass.”

“Itwillpass, Asher.I don’t ever get forever.”

Agonizing pain floods his turquoise eyes, darkening the bright color until it looks deeper, heavier, too full to hold. My heart squeezes at the look.

His hand stays on me a moment longer. Then, slowly, his fingers release.

I stumble back. His hands clench at his side. The burn inside me scorches through my veins, like I’ve swallowed hot chocolate way too fast. Our eyes meet for a second that stretches until it feels eternal.

A tear slips free. I rip my gaze away and storm out of the office.

I hear no footsteps behind me.

And I don’t dare turn around.

Chapter 31

Isla

Ihadn’tplannedoncoming here.

Not when Boston is five hours away from Frosthaven. Not when I promised Asher I’d be there for his program launching event tomorrow.

By the time I pull into the parking lot, dusk has settled over the city, casting long shadows against the pavement. My father is already outside, pacing near the entrance of his apartment complex. He keeps tugging at his collar, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I almost take a step back, not ready to face the man who walked away from us.

But this was my idea. I have to see it through.

“Surprise?” My voice cracks on the word. My legs feel like jelly, filled with electricity after hours of stress-driving, fueled by nothing but gas station coffee and the kind of emotional breakdown that hollows out your insides.

Daniel Ennis freezes when he sees me. The daughter he abandoned twenty-one years ago, standing before him like a ghost made flesh. He’s aged since I last saw him, gray threads overtaking what used to be dark hair, deep lines carving valleys into a face that seems smaller than the one in my memories. The hazel eyes that match mine widen in disbelief.

“Isla,” he whispers, my name sounding foreign on his tongue. “I didn’t think . . . I never thought I’d see you again.”

He takes an aborted step forward, then stops himself. His fingers curl, then release, like he isn’t sure if he should reach for me or keep his distance. My chest aches.

I’ve spent two decades imagining this confrontation, rehearsing all the bitter, angry things I would say. But now, faced with this diminished version of the man who left us, I feel a confusing tangle of emotions I can’t name.

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