Last Light (17 page)

“What are you doing here?” I snapped.

That stopped him cold.

“Seriously?” he said. “You’re still pissed?”

“I am not pissed.” I enunciated each word. “I haven’t thought about you since last month. But this is where I work.” I gestured to the agency. “Which I think you know. So I believe this qualifies as stalking.”

Seth cocked his head and smiled. He approached warily, hands in the air.

“I’m in town for a gig.”

“Great. I’m in town for my job.” I turned to go and Seth reached to stop me, but he paused midreach.
Wise.
I glared at his hand and he retracted it. “What do you want?”

“I thought we could get dinner. Sometime. Since I’m in the area.”

“No.”

“What the hell?” Seth raked a hand through his hair.

My heart softened slightly at his legitimate confusion. The Sky brothers weren’t lacking in the beauty department, and Nate and Matt had brains to spare, but Seth …

Seth was either dense or so egomaniacal that he couldn’t fathom being friend-zoned.

“I’m sorry, Seth. I just think it’s better if we don’t hang out.”

“Why?” He glowered at the sidewalk. “Nate said you’re going to the zoo with him in the spring. Why won’t you hang out with me?”

I balked, momentarily speechless. Weird … I couldn’t picture Nate sharing those plans.

“Uh, the zoo thing is tentative,” I said. “Very tentative. And Seth, that’s different. Nate is … Nate. Nate has a wife, kids…” I trailed off, looking meaningfully at Seth.

“So? Are you implying that I have ulterior motives?”

“Not implying anything.”

“So what’s the problem? What if I
do
have ulterior motives? You’re gorgeous, you’re funny and smart, and I want to take you out.”

“It’s not happening, Seth.”

“Never?” He glared at me.

“Never. Sorry.”

“Then we’ll be friends. Let me take you to dinner. Bring a friend if you want.”

I could see that Seth wasn’t going to give up, and I was beginning to feel cruel. What could he really do to me over dinner? Nothing, except bore me or hit on me. Or both.

Besides, I didn’t believe Seth really wanted me. To him, I was Matt’s old flame, available yet unattainable, and my resistance was probably fueling his pursuit. Maybe if I gave in to a dull dinner, he’d give up, too.

“Dinner.” I sighed. “Tomorrow night?”

His dark eyes lit up. “All right, tomorrow night.”

“Meet me at Cherry Creek. Seven okay?”

“Seven is fine.” Seth’s face fell. “The mall?”

“Yeah. They have a nice food court. I’ll meet you outside Macy’s.”

I bounded up the steps before Seth could object.

*   *   *

“Han, I am so
hot
for this guy.” My sister fanned herself as she drove. “Like if I were a dude, I’d be
gay
for this guy.
That
hot.”

“I don’t think that’s … quite how homosexuality works,” I murmured. My hands twitched on my lap. I was fighting the urge to steady the wheel.

“Whatever, whatever.” Chrissy turned up the music—Goldengrove, of course—and raised her voice to compensate. “Just let me work my magic! You have your—”

She glanced at me as we pulled up to the shopping center. I was wearing a loose turtleneck sweater dress, leggings, and boots. Nothing sexy about it.

“Okay, you have your frock going on there. I’m working this.” My sister gestured to her chest. Her tight leather jacket was unzipped enough to show a line of cleavage. She looked good, as always. Her short hair was styled perfectly, her makeup flawless, her clothes fit snugly.

We laughed as we climbed out of the car.

“I’d pay you to take this guy off my hands,” I said. “He’s creeping on me hard. Which is weird, am I right?”

“Oh, super weird.” Chrissy nodded vigorously. “I mean, Matt—” She didn’t hesitate over Matt’s name. Not once had she given me the pity eyes or the lingering hug, even though this was our first time hanging out since the memorial. Thank God for my sister. “Matt
just
happened, you know? That shit
just
went down. It is way too sketchy for his brother to be hitting on you.”

“Thank you. My thoughts exactly.”

Except not my thoughts at all.

My thoughts were more like: Matt is still alive and if he finds out Seth is after me, he will flip the fuck out and discard anonymity in favor of fratricide.

Chrissy and I strolled into the mall. We talked smack about every other outfit we passed.

“I’ll wear that when I’m reincarnated as a whale,” Chrissy said. I couldn’t help but laugh. Okay, maybe this would be fun. Life at work, the condo, and the cabin was getting insular. Besides, I missed my sister. We got along well in spite of our differences—or maybe in light of them—and she always managed to make me smile.

Plus, when I told Chrissy I needed a buffer for dinner with the lead singer of Goldengrove, nothing could hold her back. The indie group was one of her favorites.

Seth and a bandmate were waiting for us outside Macy’s.

My heart fluttered strangely at the sight of Seth.
It’s because I miss Matt,
I thought,
and looking at Seth is like looking at Matt. Of course.

I recognized the bandmate from my debauched night in New Jersey. He was the drummer, or maybe the bass guitarist.

“You brought … your sister?” Seth smiled at Chrissy.

Seth wore a gray wool coat over a T-shirt and jeans. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail. He almost looked preppy, except his shirt had … a squirrel on it?

“Yeah, this is Christine. Christine, Seth Sky.” I smirked. “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks. Matt gave it to me.”

Annnd
now I felt like an ass.

I shuffled around to shake hands with the bandmate, whose name was Wiley. Wiley couldn’t take his eyes off Chrissy. I doubt Chrissy noticed, though, because she couldn’t take her eyes off Seth. Ugh, this already felt like a twisted double date.

Seth wasn’t particularly attentive as we ambled through the food court and studied our options. Chrissy gushed about Goldengrove and solicited a signature, and Seth made amicable noises. “Oh,” he’d say, or, “I see, yeah.”

A passel of teens recognized Seth and Wiley. I braced myself for confrontation—it was never pretty when fans closed in on Matt—but Seth was gracious and talkative. Huh. Why couldn’t Matt be like that?

We ordered gyros from Renzios and Seth paid. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Laconic smiles, slow graceful gestures, an edge of nervous energy.

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 fucking 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 fucking 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 asshole 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—”

My pity turned to cold alarm.

“Get off me!”

With a violent shove, I launched myself out of Seth’s grip. I sprinted into the crowd. I crashed into a stranger and bleated an apology.

“I’m sorry!” Seth called after me. “Hannah!”

I glanced wildly over my shoulder. Seth stared at me, his face ashen. I couldn’t shake the sensation of him hardening against me. My panic. The serrated edge of adrenaline.

Seth wasn’t chasing me, but I felt like he was. I kept running and looking back and colliding with shoppers.

And that terror—the thrill of it—
oh,
it almost felt good.

Chapter 26

MATT

I waited for Melanie at the end of the drive.

“The cabin is on your left,” I told her. “It’s your first left coming up the hill. You can’t miss it, and anyway, I’ll be standing at the end of the driveway.”

I went out too early to wait.

I wasn’t nervous or worried that Mel would bring a fleet of reporters. I should have been nervous and I should have been worried, but once I make up my mind about something, a steadiness comes to me like a cold needle in my arm.

I lit a cigarette and checked my watch. Mel lived in Iowa City. She packed and left yesterday, just hours after I called, and spent the night in Omaha. She called to say she was leaving Omaha around 9
A
.
M
. my time. I Googled her route—an eight-and-a-half-hour drive to the cabin—which should put her on my doorstep at 5:30.

At 5:45 I was still standing in the cold, waiting. I’d smoked three cigarettes and was lighting a fourth when I heard tires on the snow. I walked onto the road to watch.

An electric blue Corolla crept up the hill toward me. I shielded my eyes against the headlights. It had to be Mel; after half an hour, not another car had come up the road.

She waved through the windshield—a thin wrist moving energetically.

I nodded and pointed to the driveway.

The sun sat at the edge of the mountains. Soon it would fall behind them. Excitement ghosted through me—this was when Hannah always arrived—and I tamped it down. This was
not
Hannah. This was Melanie, whom I’d invited to Colorado to chauffeur me around. “I can’t drive,” I explained, “but you can, and you need a job.”

And you know my secret, and I know yours.
That was the subtext of our arrangement.

Mel didn’t require much coercing. After a few quick questions about logistics—“Where will I stay?” and “What happens when Hannah’s around?”—she agreed.