And there, in the middle of the group, was Seth.
Our eyes met across the bar.
For a second, everything else—the noise, the crowd, my friends’ voices—dropped away. Seth’s face shifted through expressions too fast to catalog: surprise that I was here, something warm that made my stomach flip, then uncertainty as his gaze flicked to the people around me. He said something to Marcus, gestured toward our booth. Started making his way through the crowd.
My heart kicked against my ribs. I looked down at my answer sheet, at the wordmercuryin my own handwriting, and tried to remember how breathing worked.
This was not part of the plan. The plan was to spend one normal evening with my friends, prove to myself I could still function in the world, then go home and continue avoiding the conversationSeth and I needed to have. The plan did not involve Seth walking toward me with his current expression, the one that made me feel transparent.
“Oh my god,” Priya said.
I didn’t look at her. “What?”
“You just—” She laughed, delighted. “Your entire face just changed.”
“It did not.”
“It absolutely did.” Jake leaned forward, following my line of sight. “Wait, which one?”
“Don’t—”
“The tall one,” Priya said. “Gray shirt. Jesus, Tanner.”
“It’s not— He’s just?—”
“Your roommate,” Dev finished, grinning. “The one who’s been mentioned exactly twice, and both times you got weird about it.”
My face was on fire. “I don’t get weird.”
“You’re getting weird right now,” Priya said. “Oh my god, that’s him, isn’t it? Hot roommate?”
“He’s not—” I fumbled for words. “He’s just my roommate.”
“Just your roommate,” Jake repeated, watching Seth navigate between tables. “The one you’re currently staring at like he hung the stars.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You’re definitely staring.”
I forced myself to look at my beer instead. Condensation had pooled on the table around the base. I traced a finger through it, hyperaware of Seth getting closer, of my friends watching me with expressions that ranged from amused to concerned to absolutely gleeful.
“Breathe,” Priya said, gentler now. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not—” I absolutely was. I could feel the heat crawling up my neck, spreading across my face. Which was ridiculous. He was just my roommate. Just the person I’d been actively hiding from for four days because being near him made me feel things I wasn’t ready to examine. Just the guy whose arms I’d woken up in last week, whose warmth I could still feel when I closed my eyes at night.
Just Seth.
Who was now close enough that I could hear his voice as he excused himself past another table, close enough that I had to look up or make it obvious I was avoiding him.
I looked up.
Seth reached our table. He was wearing jeans and a gray Henley that fit him well. An observation I filed away and immediately tried to forget.
“Hey,” he said. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
