Page 131 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

“Nope.” Xander counts out bills into Elaine’s palm. “Betty’s been collecting since high school. The odds shifted dramatically after the flambé incident.”

Isla peeks out from my chest, her face still flushed. “You’ve all been betting on us?”

Mochi barks once, tail wagging frantically, clearly sensing the joy in the air. He jumps up, paws on Isla’s legs, demanding attention.

“Even Mochi was in on it,” I mutter, reaching down to scratch behind his ears.

“He was the most invested,” Dad says.

“Dad!”

Isla’s mom’s eyes are suspiciously misty. “We’re just happy for you both. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Too long,” Isla agrees softly, looking up at me with a warmth in her hazel eyes that spreads through me like sunlight hitting frozen ground, that I forget to be annoyed at our audience.

“Well,” I say, clearing my throat and addressing the crowd, “now that you’ve all confirmed what you clearly already knew, maybe we could have a little privacy?”

“Oh, of course,” Elaine says with a wink. “We’ll just leave you two alone.”

None of them move an inch.

Isla laughs again, shaking her head. “Subtlety isn’t really Frosthaven’s strong suit, is it?”

“Never has been,” I agree, pulling her closer and dropping a kiss on her forehead, not caring who sees.

For twenty years, she’s been my best friend, my Peachie, my favorite person. And now, she’s mine. I’m hers.

Just like it was always meant to be.

Epilogue

Isla

Six months later

Golden light filters through my office blinds, painting warm stripes across the mess of photos and statistics sheets scattered over my desk. I tap my pen against my lip, studying the numbers one more time. Eighty-four percent success rate. Not too shabby for a small-town matchmaker who almost lost everything.

“I have to admit,” Diane says, her perfectly manicured nail clinking against her coffee mug, “our methods actually worked better together than I expected. And I’ve grown to admire how hard you pushed to keep things affordable.”

I hide my smile behind my own mug. Coming from Diane, that’s practically a declaration of undying devotion.

“Who would have thought we’d end up working so well together?” I gather the photos of happy couples into a slightly crooked stack.

“Certainly not me.” Diane laughs, and it’s still weird hearing that sound without the sharp competitive edge that used to make my shoulder muscles tense. “Heaven forbid.” Diane’s eyes actually crinkle at the corners. “Did you hear Kyle’s review blog being shut down? Word is he’s moved to Portland.”

“Good riddance,” I say, and I mean it. The weird thing is, I don’t feel anything much about Kyle anymore. No anger, no hurt. Just this vague memory of a person who was once important but now feels like a character from a book I read a long time ago.

Kyle leaving town felt like closing a chapter that needed to end. A necessary step to get to where I am now—dating Asher for real.

It turns out going from friends to something more was the most natural thing in the world. We already did all the couple-y things. Shared breakfasts, inside jokes, movie nights, late-night talks. The only real difference now? Kissing. Lots of it.

After walking Diane to the door, I find Elaine and Roxanne lounging against the hallway wall, looking about as casual as two cats who’ve just knocked a vase off the counter.

“Oh! Isla!” Elaine slaps a hand to her chest, eyes comically wide. “What a completely unexpected surprise to see you here!”

Roxanne’s snort-laugh breaks through her attempted poker face.

I narrow my eyes, hands automatically finding their way to my hips. “What are you two plotting?”

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