CHAPTER THREE: A DATE WITH MY WORST ENEMY

**CHLOE'S POV**

By lunchtime, I was starving.

I'd spent the morning trying to follow my lectures while my thoughts kept circling back to Ryan and Olivia. The only thing that sounded remotely appealing was food and a quiet corner to eat it in.

At the campus café, I reached the counter and realized I had a problem.

My student card was missing.

I checked the front pocket of my bag, then the smaller compartment where it usually lived. I even checked my jeans, though I knew I hadn't put it there.

"Seriously?" I muttered.

"Looking for something?"

Ryan stood behind me, holding a bottle of water. I hadn't even heard him approach.

"My card. I can't find it."

He glanced at the counter, then at the food I'd chosen. "How much?"

"Ryan, it's fine."

"Chloe."

He ignored my protests and paid. The cashier handed him the receipt, and he passed it to me with a grin. "There. Crisis solved."

"Thank you."

"No problem." He tilted his head, studying me. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Maybe that's just my face."

He laughed. I couldn't join him. I needed to leave before he said something else that showed me how easily he could be kind without ever knowing what that kindness did to me.

"Thanks again. See you around."

"Chloe, wait."

His hand closed around mine, and I froze.

It was such a small gesture. He had held my hand before, usually to haul me away from an oncoming bicycle or toward something he wanted to show me. But today, after everything I'd seen that morning, the warmth of his fingers was unbearable.

I pulled away. He noticed. His smile disappeared.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

"That's the third time you've said that today. Look at me and say it."

I lifted my eyes to his, and for one reckless second, I wanted to tell him everything. That I had liked him for ten years. That I remembered the smallest things about him. That I'd kept loving the same books, the same songs, the same ridiculous football team, partly because he did. That watching him kiss Olivia's forehead had hurt more than I knew how to explain.

Instead, I swallowed the words. "I'm fine, Ryan."

He stared, unconvinced. Then his expression shifted, as though he'd remembered something.

"Anyway, I have good news. I spoke to Professor Harris about our project. He's changing the groups. You're working with me now."

"What happened to Caleb?"

Ryan shrugged. "Professor said he was willing to rearrange things."

Of course.

Caleb Walker: Ryan's best friend, biggest nuisance, and the only person on campus who could irritate me without trying. He was loud, arrogant, and acted as though the world existed to entertain him. Worse, he knew about my crush. He had figured it out in high school, after catching me looking at Ryan one too many times, and he'd been insufferable about it ever since. He had never told Ryan, and I didn't want him to. I just hated that Caleb held something so important about me and treated it like a private joke.

"You're not happy?" Ryan asked.

I smoothed my expression. "No, it's fine."

"Come on, Bennett. We make a good team. Remember our history project? Highest score in class."

"Because I did most of the work."

"And I provided moral support."

"You provided snacks."

"Important snacks."

I almost smiled. Almost.

"We should meet tomorrow after lectures," he said. "I trust you. You're smart, and you actually do the work."

There it was. Trust. Intelligence. Hard work. The qualities that made me useful to Ryan Whitmore.

I wondered whether he would ever see anything else, and whether I had been foolish to believe that ten years of loving someone might eventually count for something.

Apparently, I had.

"Sure," I said. "Tomorrow works."

"Great. I'll text you."

I walked away without looking back. I couldn't. I wasn't angry that Ryan trusted me with his grades. I was angry that I had spent ten years hoping he would want something more.

---

I found an empty table in the library and made myself eat, though my appetite had gone. Afterward, I opened a book to the page I'd marked the night before. It was one of my favorites. I'd first read it because Ryan once mentioned it in high school, and I'd gone home and looked it up. I had ended up loving it.

The book had nothing to do with him anymore.

At least, that was what I told myself.

I was halfway through a paragraph when someone dragged the chair opposite me away from the table. Caleb Walker dropped into it, stretched out his legs, and smiled like a man who had found his favorite source of entertainment.

"Hey, Bennett."

I returned to my book. "No."

"No what?"

"No to whatever you're about to say."

"Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Someone interrupted my reading."

"Then read faster."

I raised my eyes. "What is your problem?"

"At the moment? You."

"Wonderful. Now leave."

He didn't. He leaned forward instead, lowering his voice. "So how are you handling it?"

"Handling what?"

"Ryan and Olivia."

My fingers tightened on the book. "What's there to handle?"

"You tell me."

"Are you happy for them, Caleb?"

"That's not what I asked."

"And I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"Touchy."

"Annoying."

He laughed under his breath, then said, "Have you heard about the bonfire?"

"No."

"It's all anyone's talking about."

"Congratulations to everyone with that much free time."

He reached across the table and closed my book. I stared at him.

"You're coming with me."

I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You must have hit your head."

"Possible. It doesn't change the invitation."

"I would rather watch paint dry."

"Paint doesn't talk back."

"Exactly. Perfect."

His grin widened. "Besides, it's a couples' bonfire this year. Everyone's supposed to bring a date. Something about celebrating love and all that nonsense."

A couples' bonfire. It sounded like an event designed specifically to make me miserable.

"Then take someone else."

"I could. But I want to take you."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like you."

"A minor inconvenience."

"A major one, to me."

The librarian glanced our way, and I dropped my voice. "Keep it down."

"Then stop being so dramatic."

"I am not going anywhere with you."

Something in his face shifted. The teasing didn't vanish, but it stepped back. "You're really going to sit here all weekend feeling miserable because your best friend is dating the guy you like?"

My heart stopped.

"Don't."

"Chloe—"

"I said don't."

He glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "I'm not trying to embarrass you."

"Then stop talking about it."

"Fine. But I'm not going to pretend I don't know."

"You don't know anything."

"All right."

His easy agreement irritated me more than an argument would have. The worst thing about Caleb was that he sometimes saw too much. He could be careless and obnoxious, but he was not stupid.

"I'm not asking you to get over him tonight," he said.

"Good, because I can't."

The words escaped before I could catch them. Silence settled between us. I stared at the table, wishing I could take them back.

Caleb didn't laugh. He didn't joke. For once, he simply waited.

I hated that, too.

"I just want a normal evening," he said eventually. "You don't have to spend it thinking about them."

"And you think going with you will help?"

"I think sitting alone with a book while you torture yourself won't."

I glared at him. He raised both hands. "My opinion. Ignore it."

I should have. I should have picked up my book, told him to get lost, and spent Saturday night watching films in my room. That would have been sensible.

Instead, I pictured Ryan and Olivia arriving together, sitting close to the fire, laughing with their friends, looking like the couple everyone wanted to be. I pictured myself nearby, pretending to be happy for them.

I was tired of pretending. Not because I wanted Ryan jealous, or believed he would suddenly realize he loved me. I just wanted one evening when my entire world didn't revolve around him.

"Fine," I said.

"Fine what?"

"I'll go."

His mouth curved with satisfaction. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"If you're late, I'm leaving. And don't wear anything ridiculous."

"I have excellent taste."

"You have the taste of a raccoon."

He opened his mouth to respond, but I slid my book out from under his hand. "We're done here."

He stood, scraping his chair back with an unnecessarily loud screech. Several people glared. "Sorry," he muttered, sounding anything but.

Then he leaned down. "Seven o'clock, Bennett. Don't keep me waiting."

"I'll be waiting for the chance to leave."

He laughed as he walked off, nearly colliding with another table.

I dropped my forehead onto my book. A bonfire. With Caleb Walker. The one person who could turn a peaceful evening into a personal attack.

I had officially lost my mind. And the worst part was that I had agreed to it myself.

I lifted my head. The words on the page blurred together, so I closed the book.

Maybe Caleb was right about one thing. I couldn't keep waiting for my feelings to disappear on their own. But I had no idea how to stop loving someone I'd loved for ten years, and a bonfire with the boy I hated most was certainly not how I'd imagined beginning.

Still, Saturday was coming. And for once, I had made a decision that had nothing to do with Ryan Whitmore.

I only hoped it wouldn't be the biggest mistake of my life.