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“You like it?” I asked.
He turned when I spoke and smiled. “I’ve never seen the Timor Sea before.”
“Technically this is Beagle Gulf, and the Timor Sea is a bit further out,” I said.
“Can we go for a swim at the beach?” He asked. “Because it’s hot as hell.”
I made a face. He’d said before he liked to swim. “Uh, well, you can,” I said. “But it’s not exactly recommended. We get the occasional crocodile, and the Irukandji jellyfish—”
He put his hand up. “I’m sorry I asked.”
“But it is about twenty degrees cooler inside if you’d prefer to look at the pretty, unswimmable water from the other side of the glass door. You know, where there is air conditioning.”
He smiled, squinting one eye at the sun. “You can’t really get the whole Top End ‘baked and steamed at the same time’ experience from inside though.”
“Bakedandsteamed, huh?”
“I feel like a dumpling.”
I laughed and went to the door, waiting for him to walk in first. “They call it the silly season here,” I explained. “This weather, the oven and sauna effect, it makes people do silly things.”
“Like choose to live here?”
I went to the fridge, took out two beers, and handed him one. “You get used to it.”
He looked at the beer, then looked at me. “I generally don’t drink a great deal, so unless you’re getting me drunk to take advantage of me.”
I grinned at him. “I was hoping you’d bring that up because—”
The intercom buzzed.
“Goddammit,” I said, putting my beer down. “That’ll be the pizza.”
I took the delivery and put the pizzas on the coffee table. “Let’s eat here,” I said, collecting my beer and waiting for him to join me on the couch.
“This is the biggest couch I’ve ever seen.” He sat down. “And the softest.”
It was big. I bought it because it was deep and pillowy. “So easy to fall asleep on this thing. I’ll be watching TV and then the next thing I know, it’s 3:00 am.”
He chuckled but made a face. “Is it okay to eat on here?”
“Hell yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because it’s...”
“It’s my house. I eat all my meals here, or standin’ at the kitchen counter. I spilled nachos on this couchthe dayI got it.” I opened the pizza box and handed him the first slice. “I’m not the pretentious fancy type.”
He smiled, but it soon became a grimace. “Sorry. I don’t mean to judge. I’ve just never been in a house this nice before. I wasn’t sure what I should touch.”
“Touch anything you want. Including me.” I took a bite of my pizza. Then, like the uncouth monster I was, I spoke with my mouth full. “Hope you like supreme.”
He laughed and, like a gentleman, chewed and swallowed before he spoke. “It’s great, thanks.”
I waited until I’d swallowed before I spoke again. “I get it, though. Honestly, my eldest brother and sister are the pretentious type. They’re the real serious ones, serious about the business. It’s all about the money to them. They name-drop and do the snobby pouty faces when something’s beneath them. Which is weird because my parents aren’t like that. They earned their money, and they were normal before they got rich. My brother and sister grew up rich and feel entitled, or something, I dunno.” Then I felt bad for saying that. “Well, that’s not true, really. They work hard and they shoulder a lot of the responsibility. But they look down at me because I chase storms for fun when their idea of time off is to readBusiness Insider. Know what I mean? We’re just very different. So yeah, people who live like this can be pretentious and think they’re better than others. Rowan and Zoe are proof of that.”
Jeremiah made a face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. This is just... it’s not a world I’m familiar with.” He sipped his beer. “When I say I grew up poor, I mean it. Some days we ate, some days we didn’t. My dad worked very hard.”
Oh man.
