"In love? With Augustus Evans?"
Seth looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"It's a question, Jules."
"That's like asking whether I've considered marrying a tax auditor."
"You seem unusually interested in this particular tax auditor."
"Augustus is my childhood nemesis. He corrected my homework, won arguments I hadn't started, and made adolescence unbearable."
"I remember."
"Then you understand. Love requires affection. Augustus requires spreadsheets."
Seth smiled. "You're deflecting."
"I'm being accurate."
"You checked your phone hoping he'd message."
"Professional anxiety."
"Of course."
"Goodnight, Seth."
He raised both hands. "Goodnight, Jules."
I climbed into the waiting car before he could diagnose any additional emotional disorders.
As Shorebridge's lights blurred beyond the window, I began cataloguing Augustus's flaws.
Arrogant. Critical. Impossible to impress.
He probably alphabetized his socks.
