Page 26 of Scrap Metal & Love Reforged

But that's how dates worked, right? Two people going out, doing something together?

Seth was oblivious to it all. He grinned and threw open the door to the shop as if it was his personal goal to enter the place as dramatically as he possibly could. I followed behind…with considerably less drama.

The store had a distinctive aroma that I’d never been able to identify. It was something fruity but fake, the result of handmade air fresheners kept behind the desk near the front door. To the right, two tables and a massive wardrobe were practically buried beneath piles of old books, a glass display case of knives, a Confederate cavalry saber, and so many knickknacks that you could probably look for three hours and still not see them all.

“So, this is a cool place,” Seth said, his eyes darting about with interest.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Normally, I’d have darted off to look at other stuff but having someone with me changed things in a profound way. I felt as though Ihadto stay with Seth, even though part of me felt like a clingy girlfriend.

Seth leaned over and examined a massive, silver mirror. Black age spots covered the once pristine surface, casting Seth’s reflection in a dusty, hazy light. “This is nice,” he said.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that if I bought that mirror, I’d probably break the glass and do something creative with the shards. But then, I didn’t really spend much time gazing in mirrors. Seth probably did. There wassomethingabout him, maybe his looks, that stirred all sorts of warm feelings in my chest. He looked luminous, like someone who took really good care of himself. My mind went to the night we’d had sex together, and heat rushed to my face. I imagined waking up beside him in the mornings, the sunlight caught in his hair and his warm, hazel eyes. He had a way of gazing at me, too, that I didn’t quite understand. It was a look of fond, curious enthusiasm.

“Yeah, it’s all right,” I replied.

Seth tilted his head to the side, still observing himself in the mirror. “Boy, do I lookgoodtoday,” he said, smirking.

I was vaguely irritated that heknewjust how attractive he was and was so shameless about admitting it. But my irritation was tempered by admiration for how damnopenhe was about everything. He was so confident, so unashamed of who he was. Logically, Seth should'veseemedarrogant. But somehow, he delivered all his comments about himself with a wry, self-deprecation.

“You’re okay,” I replied.

Seth chuckled and moved on, gingerly picking his way past furniture, piles of metal signs, and wicker baskets that coveredthe floor. “So how did you get into this?” he asked, waving vaguely around our surroundings.

“My brother,” I replied.

“Older? Younger?”

An uncomfortable twist gripped my chest, as if the store's temperature had just dropped. I didn’t discuss my brother with anyone, not even my online friends. If I didn’t discuss Lance, I didn’t have to think about him. I didn’t have to remember what happened, and my part in it.

“Older. He…died.”

Seth looked over his shoulder at me, his face soft. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was it recent?”

“High school. I don’t like to talk about it.”

I expected him to pressure me. He had that sort of exuberant personality, the sort to keep pressing and ignore social cues. But he turned his attention instead to a case of glass figurines. “I’m an only child,” he said.

“How is that?”

My thoughts were on my brother, then.

“I guess it’s fine. I never felt as though I was missing something being an only child, but that might be partly because I really liked to have everyone’s attention. I would’ve hated having to share the spotlight.”

I snorted. I could imagine Seth as a kid all too easily. He was probably the sort of hyper, bouncing-off-the-wall type who made teachers want to pull their hair out. And he’d probably been a terrible teenager.

“You grew up okay,” I said.

That was a bizarre comment.

Seth grinned. “I think so, but I guess I do kind of miss it. I think I like the idea of having siblings. That familial bond, you know?”

I nodded. But really, having siblings wasn’t all that great. I loved Skye, of course. She was my dear sister. But she also seemed to think that I couldn’t do anything myself. Logically, I knew that she just cared about me and wanted to help, but sometimes, I really could’ve done with her toning back the helpfulness. It felt partly like a pity thing. She hadn’t cared so much before Lance died.

God, I sound ungrateful.

“Sometimes, it’s nice,” I said, trying for a neutral answer.