Last Light(45)

Unable to get a word out of Seth, my sister turned her attention to Wiley. The two fell to chatting while Seth and I stuffed our faces in silence.

Cool. Friends, hanging out. This was what Seth wanted, right?

I peeked at him while we ate.

Damn, he looked sort of pitiful. He sat hunched over his tray, holding the sloppy gyro with both hands and gazing at the table. A bit of onion dangled from his shirt.

“Seth?” I tapped the edge of his tray.

He startled and then smiled. “Not bad food,” he said, gesturing with the gyro.

“It’s good.” I nodded. “You okay?”

“Wiley and I are going shopping,” Chrissy announced. I looked up to find Wiley and Chrissy crushed together, Wiley’s tattooed arm around her waist. I narrowed my eyes. This was not our plan. Chrissy was supposed to save me from Seth, not go wandering off with random Wiley. I tried to convey that with my glare.

No dice.

“Call me when you’re ready to go,” she said. She gave a little wave.

Great …

I expected to find Seth smiling slyly at me, but he was staring at the table again.

“Seriously, are you okay, Seth?”

He finished his gyro with a big bite and washed it down with a swig of Coke.

“I’m a little bummed,” he said at last. He sighed and sat back. I tried to meet his stare, but it was so intense, so penetrating, that I finally looked away. “I like you, Hannah. That night after the memorial was so f*cking fun. And I got this … idea.” He pressed a hand to his head as if the idea were an ache. “This idea that you’d go for me. You liked Matt and he was a dick—no offense, bro.” Seth winked at the ceiling. “And you like Nate. So why—”

“Whoa, there. I loved Matt, yes. I like Nate as a friend, that’s it.”

“Fine, why can’t I be a friend?”

I ground my teeth. Seth would drive the conversation into awkward land.

For the space of a minute, I pictured Nate’s face—darkly handsome and dignified, always full of kindness—and then I pictured Matt. Gorgeous Matt … passionate, aloof.

“You’re smiling,” Seth said.

“Yeah.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Thinking about Matt.”

“Is it too soon? Is that the problem?”

I finished my gyro and piled our trays together.

“You’re being pretty aggressive about this, Seth.”

“I just want to know if I have a chance.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Why not?”

Because Matt is still alive.

I shrugged and crumpled my napkin.

“Okay,” Seth persisted. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

I frowned at him. “Obviously you’re attractive, Seth. I’m sure you’re aware. If you need me to reinforce that fact, you’ve got some serious middle child syndrome going.”

“Hey, maybe I do.”

“Can we walk around?”

“Uh-huh…” Seth watched me as I discarded our trash. I felt his dark eyes on me.

Abruptly, Seth stood and stalked off.

I jogged to catch up.

“I hate the mall,” he snapped. “It makes me tired and depressed. And you know what? It’s f*cking depressing and sad that you made me take you to dinner at the food court.”

I studied the passing floor.

Yeah … I was starting to feel like an * for suggesting we dine at the food court. Except … “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” I mumbled.

“Wrong idea not gotten, have no fear.”

We moved aimlessly through the mall. We didn’t go into any stores or talk at all, which suited me fine. I hate small talk.

After a while, Seth caught my hand.

“Hannah,” he said, drawing me up short. “Let me try something. Let me just—”

His words ignited a memory—so vivid—and my cheeks flushed. I remembered Matt in my car, the first time he rode away from the cabin with me. Our heated kiss that turned into more. Let me just … touch it, Hannah … let me put my mouth on it. Please …

Seth’s desperation sounded identical.

He pulled my body to his and hugged me. I thought he was going for a kiss, but no … just a hug? Or was he holding me? I stiffened in his arms. Get a grip, Hannah. Hug Seth like you’d hug Nate. Except Seth and Nate had nothing in common.

Hugging them had nothing in common …

I relaxed enough to wrap my arms around Seth’s back. Oh, he felt hunger-thin under his coat. Just like Matt—hard muscle and bone. Why didn’t Seth have a girlfriend? Who took care of this wild boy? It could never be me. I had my own wild boy to take care of.

I gave Seth a gentle squeeze and heard him exhale.

“I miss him.” He spoke into my hair. “Matt. Why did it happen this way?”

I swallowed a knot of guilt and laid my cheek against his chest.

Seth pressed his hips to mine.

Shoppers parted around us, oblivious or annoyed.

Seth nudged me against a wall. My body bumped against his and I felt the unmistakable bulge of his arousal. I struggled, the friction making him twitch and expand. He gasped.

“Hannah, I—”