My hands tighten on my mug. “Don’t.”
“Come on, man. When’s the last time you were actually interested in someone? Like, properly interested?”
“I’m not interested in anyone.”
“Bullshit. I’ve seen how you look at her with longing for the lasttwo yearswhen you think no one’s watching.”
I stare into my coffee like it might save me from this conversation. Because how do I explain that most people just... don’t register? That I’ve spent years watching my parent’s loveless marriage, watching Drake marry for status, watching every relationship in my world become some fucked up agreement? That I don’t want that. I don’t want to do that to anyone,especiallyTara.
“You know the guys used to think you were into guys,” Freddie says casually. “First year, when you never showed interest in anyone.”
I shrug. “Wouldn’t matter if I was.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” He takes a drink. “But that wasn’t it, was it? You’re just selective.”
“I don’t like most people,” I admit quietly. “Never have. There’ve been... a few. Guys, girls. Nothing serious.”
“Because you didn’t want serious or because you were afraid of it?”
The question hits too close to home. I think about the handful of hook-ups in my past - quiet arrangements with people who understood discretion, who wanted nothing more than physical release. Safe. Controlled. Nothing like the chaos Tara brings.
“I’m not built for it,” I say finally. “Relationships. Love. Whatever. The Spencers, we don’t... we can’t...”
“Can’t what?”
“Feel things. Not properly.” The words taste bitter.Everything’s a contract. A power play. Even with family.
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Freddie’s voice is sharp. “I’ve seen you with me. With Troy. Hell, even with Ethan when he’s being an idiot. You care plenty. You and Tara literally took the blame for his mistake, risking your own expulsion.”
“That’s different.”
“Why? Because it’s safe? Because they can’t hurt you?”
I don’t answer, but he must see something in my face because his expression softens.
“Look, I get it. Your family’s fucked up. But that doesn’t mean you have to be.”
“You don’t understand.” I stand, needing to move. “Every Spencer marriage for generations has been a business arrangement. Every relationship a strategic move. What if that’s all we’re capable of? What if I try and I just... can’t? What if I hurt—” I cut myself off and take a deep breath.
“Hurt Tara?” Freddie finishes quietly.
I turn away, unable to handle his knowing look.
“Maybe you’re right,” he says finally, then pauses. “You know, it took me two years to get my shit together with Alex.”
I look up, surprised by the change in tone.
“Two years of pretending I was fine with just being friends. That I didn’t want more. I mean, I wasn’t very good at pretending. I was lying to her, and to myself.” Hesettles back into his chair. “Want to know what I was really afraid of?”
“Enlighten me.”
“That I’d mess it up. That I’d hurt her. I kept thinking – what if I’m not good enough? What if I fuck up the friendship? What if I break her heart?” His laugh is self-deprecating. “Sound familiar?”
I say nothing, but my silence is answer enough.
“You know what I figured out? Yeah, maybe I will hurt her sometimes. Maybe she’ll hurt me too. That’s kind of part of the deal when you actually let yourself feel something real.” He leans forward. “But you know what’s worse than maybe hurting someone? Never giving them the chance to choose if you’re worth the risk.”
“It’s not that simple?—”
