Page 73 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

I yank my hand back and launch to my feet so fast I nearly wipe out on my own socks. “Adrenaline! Total adrenaline glitch!” I backpedal, smacking my hip against the coffee table—ow—then flail upright like an uncoordinated baby deer. “Science is a liar, okay? A big, dumb liar!”

Asher follows, his hands find my waist, holding me upright before I can crash into anything else.

“Are you running because of the friendship pact we made when we were kids?” His eyes search mine, dark, unreadable.

“I’m not running, and that pact was a perfectly reasonable, well-thought-out decision.”

“I think that was a dumb decision. I vote that we cancel that dumb pact.”

“Huh?”

“And I was even dumber for making you feel like I rejected you back in college.”

I freeze, and the memory floods back, sharp and clear as if it happened yesterday.

Asher and I were in our usual lakeside spot, sitting on the dock with our feet dangling in the cool water. Breakup number six was officially on the record. Apparently, I was too boring this time.

My chest ached with that familiar hollow feeling. Same one when my father left, when the front door clicked shut behind him for the last time. The same emptiness that told me I was fundamentally unlovable.

“Do you think . . .” I forced my voice to be light and playful. “Hypothetically . . . do you think there’s any version of this universe where I can actually have and keep a boyfriend? You know, someone great. Someone kind of like you?”

His eyebrows drew together slightly.

“I mean . . . I mean, hypothetically, would you ever like someone . . . like me?”

The silence that followed felt endless.

Oh no. What did I just say?

Who asks their best friend that kind of question? Especially after getting dumped. Again. I probably sounded desperate and pathetic. Like one of those girls who can’t handle being alone.

“I mean, not that you would!” I backpedaled with a laugh that sounded brittle even to my ears. “Obviously. That would be ridiculous. I’m just conducting research on why I’m apparently impossible to love.”

Asher wouldn’t look at me, staring instead at the ripples our feet made in the water. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight.

“You’re amazing. You’ll find someone who sees that.” His shoulders were tense, like he was physically holding something back.

“Just kidding.” I laughed and splashed water at him, like this was just another silly conversation between friends. Well, who knew a stupid question could answer so much? At least Asher rejected me gently. That’s what best friends do, right? They find the nicest way to tell you they could never see you that way.

“Earth to Isla. You still with me?” The memory dissolves as Asher’s arm tightens around my waist, pulling me back to the present.

“Oh! Yes. Totally. Very present.” I blurt it out. “And no, I don’t remember what happened that day when you . . . uh . . . you know, rejected me. And even if I did, which I don’t, it wouldn’t matter because that was a million years ago, and things change, and people grow, and I am a mature, fully functional adult who does not dwell on ancient history.”

Asher just looks at me. His grip doesn’t loosen.

“I was scared,” his voice drops lower, “Scared of ruining what we had. So I didn’t tell you the truth . . . the answer you deserved.”

He lifts one hand, brushing his knuckles lightly along my cheek. “I’ve been playing it too safe for too long.”

What’s happening?

Too safe? My heart thunders against my ribs. Is he telling me what he said that day at the lake was wrong? Is he saying he sees me as more than just a friend?

“Being just your friend isn’t enough anymore, Isla.”

Am I dreaming? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had this exact dream.

Or maybe someone’s not normal right now. Could the flambé disaster have caused permanent damage? A head injury? A full-blown reality shift?

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