“Well,” I say, “I’m touched by your deeply dysfunctional affection.”
“Don’t make this sentimental.”
“God forbid.”
“I mean it, though.”
My chuckle.
“I know.”
There is a beat.
Then Luke says, “Right. I’ve got chapter eight for you tonight.”
“Of course you do.”
“And I left the ending ambiguous.”
“Of course you did.”
“I need conflict.”
“You need supervision.”
Priya laughs properly this time.
Luke says, “Who is that?”
“A colleague.”
“Tell your colleague I dislike her support of tyranny.”
“She says noted.”
“I hate both of you.”
The call ends two minutes later with Luke complaining about deadlines, me insulting his adverbs, and both of us pretending that counted as a normal friendship.
When I put the phone down, Priya is grinning.
“What?”
“That was weirdly adorable.”
“It was not.”
“He basically rang to tell you he misses bullying you in person.”
“That is not adorable. That is deeply unhealthy.”
“Still adorable.”
I point my fork at her. “I’m changing lunch partners.”
“No, you’re not. You like me.”
I sigh. “Unfortunately.”
