He smirks, mimicking my pose. “I bet it brought in the viewers.”
“Am I supposed to be excited about thousands of people watching you make me look like an idiot?” I clench my fists. I’ve never wanted to punch someone before, but I can clearly visualize how good it would feel for my fist to connect with his pretty little face.
His shoulders fall just a tad. “I wasn’t trying to make you look like an idiot.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t even be here, Seth.” I pull myself up to my full height because I will not allow this man to crumble me. Again. “I’ll meet you tomorrow to exchange lists, but after that, I don’t want to talk to you. You may not be taking this seriously, but I am. This ismycareer on the line. I don’t care what you have to work out with Natasha; work from home, come in only when I’m not here. I don’t care.ATFismyturf and I refuse to see you if I don’t have to.” My chest tightens, likely due to the steady stream of rage flowing through me.
Seth’s voice softens and his hand drifts up like he’s tempted to reach for me. “Lana, I wasn’t trying to hurt you...”
I ignore his protest, pushing past him and out the door, determined not to look back.
—
My anger andfrustration toward Seth simmer in my blood from the moment I leave the office until I wake up the very next day. I still have trouble believing my self-assured butsweet first love has morphed into this complete jackass—willing to infiltrate my territory and embarrass me in front of thousands—but here we are. Whatever. All I have to do is make it through one more conversation with him and I can put him firmly back in the past. Where he belongs.
As I get ready for our meetup, I dress in one of my favorite outfits, wanting to feel comfortable yet cute. Pulling on a long chiffon pleated skirt in a mint green, I top it with a vintage Wonder Woman shirt, an image of Diana in her power pose in black and white. Tying the shirt in a knot just under my ribs, I hope some of her strength will trickle through to me. I slip on flat gold sandals and dangly gold earrings, grab all my work stuff, and head out.
I arrive at Constellation Coffee two hours before my designated meeting time with Seth. To say I’m anxious about this exchange is an understatement. Not only do I have to see Seth face-to-face after the disaster that was yesterday, but we foolishly agreed to do this outside the office. At least atATFthere’s a chance someone else would be hanging about if we needed interference. Especially once I see what kind of torture he’s come up with for me. Torture I’m sure has only gotten worse over the past twenty-four hours. Thank Loki I get to deliver some torture in return.
After ordering an iced hazelnut latte, I find a table in the back of the shop and hunker down. I wanted to arrive early to calm my nerves, but now that I’m here with no other assignments to work on, all I’ve done is give myself plenty of time to psych myself out. I use the time to write reviews of the last two books I read for my personal blog, which is myhappy place, but even writing about books doesn’t help take my mind off what’s coming. I’d really rather just get it over with at this point and put myself out of my misery.
So it’s actually something of a relief when Seth pushes through the front door of the café only an hour later. He orders and his eyes find mine as soon as he turns to look for a table.
If I was hoping for my anger to cancel out his hotness, well... I’m shit out of luck. It’s been hard to give him a full once-over since every time I look at him lately, my eyes are squinted in a glare. But since today is the last time I plan on seeing him, I allow myself a complete perusal.
Today he’s in jeans and a gray T-shirt, just tight enough to show off both his biceps and his sculpted forearms. When we were teenagers, his dark hair was long and floppy, hanging in his eyes à la Leonardo DiCaprio inTitanic(a.k.a. peak hotness). Now it’s cropped shorter, showing off his strong jaw, which is covered in a layer of stubble he never would’ve been able to grow in high school. It doesn’t look like he’s combed said hair or shaved said stubble, but this only adds to his appeal, which, given how long I spent getting ready for today, should make me hate him. And it totally does.
He gives me a brief nod of acknowledgment. “Parker.” He dumps his stuff on an empty chair before grabbing his coffee.
I sit up straight. And maybe stick my chest out a little, but I can neither confirm nor deny. “How do you want to do this?” I don’t even let him take a sip of coffee before cutting right to the chase.
This doesn’t stop him from taking a long swig before he answers me. “Should we go through the lists item by item?”
I was going to suggest that myself, just in case I need to make last-minute adjustments depending on what he came up with for me. But now that he’s suggested it, I can’t allow it. Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head. “Nope. I’m not going to let you sneak any changes in. You hand me your list and I’ll hand you mine.”
His lips turn down, but he shrugs. “Fair enough.” Reaching into his messenger bag, he pulls out a lined piece of notebook paper, and I have a sudden flashback to junior year, when he used to write me notes every day during study hall. Most of them were just pithy witticisms about what he’d observed that day in class, but sometimes they were more serious, detailing things he wanted out of life. Where he saw us down the road. What he hoped we’d achieve, both together and as individuals. He was a beautiful writer, even then.
He clears his throat, shaking me out of my reverie. And fuck that reverie. That Seth no longer exists, and even if he did, that’s all in the past. This whole dumb experiment is about finding myself, not about romanticizing my high school relationship.
I flip open my silver Avengers notebook and rip out the list I made for him. “Ready?”
“Do we need a countdown or something?”
I glare at him, tossing his list across the table and snatching mine from his hand.
There are a couple minutes of silence as we each take in what the other has written. My eyes scan the page quickly, looking for any grenades, before they travel back to the top of the paper and I read it through more carefully. I take more time than I need because it’s easy to see I’ve been way harsher on Seth than he has been on me. Most of the items on this list are similar to what I would’ve done for my original assignment, before this became some ridiculous competition. And there’s one particular item I expected to see, thanks to my lovely coworkers and our Slack conversation, but it’s conspicuously missing.
“Any questions?” Seth finally breaks the silence, his tone and expression equally unreadable.
“You left off the one-night stand?” I know I should take this gift and run with it, but I can’t help but wonder if he left it off on purpose. And if he did, for what reason. It certainly wasn’t to be nice.
He studies his own paper, keeping his eyes busy and away from mine. “Yeah, well, there are limits, I guess. I don’t want to push you to do something like that if you’re not ready or don’t want to.” He almost immediately ruins the considerate sentiment. “Besides, I’m planning on winning even without humiliating you.”
My eyes narrow. “So, what, you think I’m incapable of doing it?”
“I know you’re more than capable.” His eyes finally meet mine and they are lightning, his lips curling up in a smirk.
My cheeks heat and my lips part, just the slightest bit. We sit for an uncomfortable minute, the flush spreading down my neck and to my chest, as my very stupid andunhelpful brain plays a montage of all the doing it Seth and I used to, well, do.
