With a fierce hug, she was gone — just in time for Shawn to stop at the edge of the bench.

I smiled, gesturing toward the café. “Shall we?”

It was an awkward quiet as we stood in line and got coffee, and Shawn found an empty table right in the center of the shop once we had our drinks in hand. He sat first, angling his guitar against the table, and I took the seat across from him.

“Thanks for meeting me.”

He nodded. “How are you?”

“I’m…” I paused. “Awful, honestly,” I admitted, but it was with a smile. “But I’ll be okay. Eventually.”

“Is that why you called me? To talk?”

“Yes, but not really about me. Well, kind of.” I shook my head. “I just… there’s something I want you to know. Something you deserve to know.”

Shawn cocked a brow, and with one last sip of my coffee and a deep breath, I told him about the deal I’d made with Clay in this very coffee shop, about the part Shawn played in our whole relationship. I left out the details I’d told Riley, even some that I’d told my dad, focusing instead on apologizing for playing a game with him that he wasn’t even aware of.

It hurt the worst to tell him out of everyone, especially as I watched a cold resolve wash over him when he realized everything between us had been carefully construed. When I finished, I lifted my coffee to my lips, waiting for him to process.

He sighed, running a hand over his hair. “Well,” he finally said. “I won’t lie and say I don’t wish I would have noticed you before Clay fake dated you and then consequently swept you off your feet.”

I smiled.

“But,” he continued, “I’m glad to know you now.”

His eyes danced in the low light of the coffee shop as he said it, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. “Really?”

“Really,” he said. “Maybe we could start over.”

Panic seized me, my face reddening. I hadn’t thought of this as a possibility, him still wanting to date me. In fact, I thought he’d be pissed. I thought he’d curse me out and call me a psycho before storming out of the café.

“Um...”

“As friends,” he clarified, leaning forward on a smirk.

He smiled even more when I let out a breath of relief, and then he stood, holding his arms open for a hug.

I stood, too, and slipped into his grasp, squeezing him just as tightly when he wrapped me in his embrace.

“Friends,” I agreed.

I looked up at him when we pulled back, and he shook his head, arching a brow. “I can’t believe you played me like a damn fiddle.”

“I can’t believe you were trying to hook up with someone who had a boyfriend.”