Seth (Damage Control 3)

“Yes.”

“Meet you at Steep and Brew? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Fine.”

I’ll go. If only to look him in eye when I say goodbye.

***

The coffee shop is full. It’s a favorite stop for students, and it’s lunch time, so I have to wade through the crowded place, looking for Fred.

In my mind’s eye, I see the kiss he shared with the blonde on repeat and anger is like a jagged rock in my chest.

Coming here was a mistake. I stop, turn around. He has no excuse for what he did, no excuse I’d accept. What an asshole. He treated me badly and Seth… Seth taught me I deserve better.

My pulse is racing. Yes, this was a mistake. Who cares what Fred has to say for himself? I don’t care. I only want to see Seth, hide in his arms, feel his heart beat against mine.

“Madeline! Back here.”

Crap.

Sighing, I turn, and there is Fred, waving at me from a table. He even has a cup for me, and I know as I approach it’s my favorite, pumpkin spice coffee.

I should be touched or something, but I’m only annoyed. Annoyed he decided to start being thoughtful now, annoyed by his blue eyes and wide smile, his black-rimmed glasses. By all the things I used to find adorable.

But I’m also glad to see him. How screwed up is that?

Sitting down, I wrap my cold hands around the mug and try to sort through my feelings. “Hi, Fred.”

He beams at me, but when I don’t return the smile, he frowns. “You’re really upset with me, aren’t you?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah. Right. I get it.”

“Do you?” I inhale the aroma of the spiced coffee and try to relax. “You hurt me. You lied to me. Why?”

God, I want to know. I may not have real feelings about him—not as intense and deep as I do for Seth—but he’s my friend. Or was. I thought we shared a connection. An und

erstanding.

“Look,” Fred says and pushes his mug away, still full. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I really am. Sorry that I wasn’t one hundred percent honest.”

“Or at all?” I glare at him. “Seriously.”

“Okay. Fine. Look, I just wasn’t sure.”

“About what? Me?”

“No. Good God, no.”

“Then?”

He sends me a strained smile, and I have no clue what this is about. “About me. Myself. What I want.”

“Jesus, Fred. Spit it out.”

He winces. “I thought maybe… maybe I like guys.”