“I knew it!” the woman from Rudy’s calls. “Had my money on them since day one. Pay up,” she says to the guy who runs the North Pole Nook and Tavern.
He forks over a bill.
“Two weeks till an engagement,” someone else adds.
That one hits like a slap.
Isla’s still smiling, but it’s more practiced now. Polished. Carefully in place.
Because how the hell do we break it to these people later that we were pretending? That the story they’re now investing in wasn’t even supposed to happen?
The magic of their town didn’t create this. A prank on my teammates did.
I stay quiet. I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
“I guess we’re not just fake-dating for my teammates anymore,” I mutter once the crowds thin and they return to their days.
Isla adjusts her scarf, her smile vanishing. “Nope. We’re fake-dating for the whole town.”
I shoot her a look. “You okay with that?”
She hesitates. “Of course,” she says after a beat. “I just didn’t expect to disappoint so many people when it’s over.”
The words are like a blow to the chest. Because she’s right.
The worst part is I don’t want it to be over. But it will be in three more days. And the photographic evidence of the best dates I’ve ever had will live forever online. It’s a sobering thought. The evidence of this fake romance will linger, even when we break up, claiming we’re better off as friends. From the pictures being snapped now to the one from the sleigh ride that Everly posted on the team’s socials. They tell a real story of a fake romance. I almost wish we’d never agreed to that sleigh ride pic, because I’m pretty sure I’ll be looking at it after Christmas.
My stomach twists, but I’ve got to focus on the here and now. Not the end. As we walk down the street, I take her hand. “Can I tell you something?”
She glances up. “Of course.”
I swallow roughly, past the knot in my throat. “Right now, while we’re doing it, this doesn’t feel fake.”
She squeezes my hand. “No. It really doesn’t,” she says, but her tone doesn’t match her touch. “That’s the problem.”
Her words hit like a jolt. “Why?” I ask.
She gives me a bittersweet look. “Because it feels good. And it’s going to end.”
And when it ends, we won’t just be playing a fast one on my team anymore, all in the name of me behaving at a gala. We’ll be disappointing an entire town rooting for us.
Regret chases me, and I try to shrug it off, but it clings like cold air.
When we reach the toy store, I try on a joke for size. “Before we know it, we’ll be part of Evergreen Falls’ official marketing campaign.”
Isla doesn’t quite laugh.
She doesn’t like failing. Neither do I. And pretty soon, we’re going to have to admit we failed.
But not yet. Not today.
This afternoon, we shop for my kid. And it’s a damn good thing I have a game tonight, and plans to watch a game too—because otherwise, I could do this all day with her.
Well, maybe minus the crowds snapping our picture and asking about our future.
That part I could do without.
I have enough questions on my own.
