Page 95 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

I knock, hearing female voices shriek and scramble inside. Something crashes. Classic Isla chaos.

“Wait for a second!” Elaine’s voice calls out. “Just making your girlfriend presentable!”

“No rush,” I answer, leaning against the doorframe. My heart hammers against my ribs like I’m sixteen again, waiting to take Isla to prom after her date bailed. Except this time, I’m not the backup plan.

I’m the plan.

“Alright, Romeo,” Roxanne announces as the door swings open, “Your date awaits—”

And then I see her.

The mint dress clings just right at the waist before cascading down in soft, flowing waves, swaying with every tiny shift of her body. The sweetheart neckline dips, teasing just enough skin to make my pulse thunder in my ears. She looks like she stepped out of some dream. Soft, glowing, untouchable. And yet, all I can think about is touching her.

Her auburn hair tumbles in loose waves, framing her bare shoulders, skin smooth. My fingers twitch at my sides, a hunger curling deep in my gut. I want to trace the line of her collarbone, feel the warmth of her skin under my hands, pull her in, and crash my lips on hers, finally tasting what I’ve wanted for years.

She shifts slightly, and the fabric catches the light, highlighting the curves I’ve spent years forcing myself not to notice. Years wasted.

She’s gorgeous. Too gorgeous. And every ounce of self-control I’ve built around her feels like it’s about to snap.

I’ve seen Isla in everything from formal wear to those ridiculous SpongeBob pajamas she refuses to throw out, but I’ve never seen her like this.

Like she dressed for me.

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. Her eyes are wide, uncertain, searching mine for a reaction. I need to say something, anything, before I do something stupid like pull her against me.

“I, uh—” She shifts her weight, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her dress. “Is it too much?”

Too much? Peachie, you have no idea.

“Too much?” Elaine mutters behind her. “Girl, I think you broke him.”

She is right.

“You look . . .” Beautiful doesn’t cover it. Gorgeous is too generic. I run a hand through my hair, stalling while my thoughts go sideways. “Beautiful,” I finally managed, the word inadequate but safe.

“The mint was the perfect choice,” I grin. “Much better than the SpongeBob pajamas.”

She laughs, and the sound loosens something in my chest. “You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

“Never.” I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. I could listen to that laugh all night. See her like this. Happy, comfortable, glowing in something she loves. And knowing I had a part in it? Yeah, I’d take that any day.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” She presses her palm against my arm, then my chest, with just a little extra pressure. Testing. Feeling.

Is she trying to figure out what’s underneath?

I arch a brow, smirking. “Let me introduce you to your boyfriend.” I give a slight bow, playing into it.

“Fake. Fake boyfriend.” She clears her throat. “Nice to meet you. Please excuse any first-time awkwardness.”

I bite back the urge to correct it, to remind her that this isn’t just some passing act for me. But for now, I let it slide. For now, I’ll settle forthis.

“First time for everything, Peachie.”

I pull out the small velvet box I’ve been carrying all day. The necklace inside cost more than I’d planned to spend, but she’d been looking at this exact necklace online for weeks, never buying it for herself.

“Here. Got you something.”

“Asher—”

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