Page 53 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

“Don’t start, Con,” I warn, recognizing the dangerous territory we’re heading into.

Conner holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Speaking of dealing with things . . .” His expression shifts to something that usually means trouble. “Actually, I’ve got some news of my own.”

I eye him suspiciously. “Why do I already feel like I need a fire extinguisher?”

“Your lack of faith wounds me, brother.” Conner presses his hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Especially since I’m being the responsible adult.”

“You?” Xander actually looks up from the empty espresso cup. “Your company’s doing fine without adding more chaos to your portfolio.”

“Please,” Conner says with a confident smirk. “Some of us can handle more than one venture at a time.”

“And what kind of venture are we talking about?” I ask.

His grin widens. “Elaine’s dad asked me to consider buying Fresh n’ Fluffy.”

I nearly choke on my coffee. “The bakery? You’re kidding.”

“The very one.” His grin turns positively devilish. “And he hasn’t told his daughter yet.”

“Only you would consider buying a business specifically to torment someone.” Xander gives Conner a cold assessment.

“It’s not torment. There are things that need to be handled.”

“It’s a death wish,” I translate. “Elaine will murder you in your sleep and make it look like a baking accident.”

The door jingles as Isla walks in, flanked by Roxanne. Their laughter fills the café, and the place feels ten times brighter. I’m drawn to her warmth like a moth to a flame.

I drag my attention back to my mug. The last thing I need is Conner catching me staring at his sister like some lovesick idiot.

“Well, if it isn’t my dear little sister,” Conner calls out, waving at Isla.

She spots us and waves back. Her smile lights up her whole face, but she purposely looks everywhere but at me. Something in my chest tightens.

Ever since that day at the gym, things have been different. We barely eat lunch or dinner together, and she’s suddenly into making her own chamomile lavender tea instead of letting me bring it. The late-night texts come less often now. No gummy bear debates, no overthinking her pothos plant’s mood. Just polite check-ins. Friendly. Normal.

Too normal.

I reach for my phone, desperate for a distraction, but Conner’s already watching me with one eyebrow raised and a smirk so evil it should be outlawed.

The atmosphere shifts when Roxanne spots Xander. The whole café seems to hold its breath. Xander goes completely still, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around his coffee cup.

“Roxanne,” Xander said.

Roxanne’s smile turns glacial, her eyes burning. “Didn’t realize Frosthaven is accepting corporate jerks now.”

“Still very charming.” Xander’s face remains impassive, but something dark flashes in his eyes.

The café might as well be empty for how intensely they’re focused on each other.

“I see success still costs you everything, Huntley.” Roxanne lifts her chin.

“Only the things I choose to lose.”

Isla catches Roxanne’s arm before she can respond, steering her toward a table across the café. The tension follows them like a storm cloud. Xander doesn’t move a muscle, and his gaze is glued to Roxanne’s back.

Isla and Roxanne settle at a table diagonally from us, perfectly in my line of sight. Every time Isla leans forward to pat Roxanne’s hand, a strand of her hair catches the morning light, and I completely lose track of whatever Conner’s saying about his business plan.

The café door chimes, and in walks Devyn Marshall—Frosthaven’s resident firefighter and the guy who’s been unsuccessfully chasing Isla since high school. He makes a beeline for her table, not even bothering with the coffee line.

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