Page 4 of Surprise Me Always

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I rub the condensation off my glass with my thumb.

“Penny for your thoughts,” says Luke.

“That would barely cover the cost of one.”

He studies me for a moment. “Are you actually looking forward to this?”

There it is. Straight through the ribs.

I give him a look. “I’d ask if you could be less direct, but I know that would confuse you.”

“I’m not fishing for reassurance. I genuinely want to know if you want to go.”

Around us, the noise of the pub swells and shifts. Somebody starts singing very badly near the toilets. It is impossible to tell whether they are drunk or merely optimistic.

I keep my gaze on the table. “I do,” I say, which is true enough to be useful.

Luke waits.

“It’s a good job,” I add.

He says nothing.

I sigh. “And yes, before you say it, I know that isn’t what you asked.”

I look up at him.

“I think,” I say slowly, “that wanting to go and wanting to leave aren’t necessarily the same thing.”

He nods in agreement.

“That,” he says, “is the first intelligent thing you’ve said all evening.”

“Thank you.”

He takes a sip of wine. “For what it’s worth, I think taking the job is sensible.”

“Ah. The sweet balm of your support.”

“I’m not finished.” He sets the glass down. “I also think sensible is not always as noble as people pretend.”

I let that sit between us for a moment.

The stupid thing is, I know exactly what he means.

Safe has always been easier to dress as responsible.

Before I can say anything, Becca reappears with fresh drinks, nudging mine towards me. “There. Another pint for the man of the hour.”

“Please never call me that again.”

“You are so difficult to celebrate.”

“I’m easy to celebrate,” I say. “I’m just hard to sentimentalise.”

“Same difference.”

The table pulls me back in after that. Somebody asks Luke about his next book and he launches into a scathing assessment of police procedure in contemporary fiction that is, regrettably, fascinating. Then Julia tells a story about a cover meeting gone wrong involving a shirtless duke, a peacock, and a font choice that nearly ended in violence. I laugh, properly this time, and feel some of the tightness in my chest loosen.