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“If the contact lens thing was true, I would say something about examinations.”
“If I were Tom, I would answer back with a spectacular sex pun. Something likeprivateexaminations.”
My mouth twitches. “But you’re shy.”
He gives me a slow grin. “I didn’t think I’d meet a pretty girl tonight.”
“What did you think would happen tonight?” I ask, leaning closer.
“Not much, but my expectations for fun have been low since my ex.” He says this with a wince, as if regretting the words.
“Sorry,” he adds. “I’m not as heartbroken as I sound. I swear.”
“How long has it been?”
“Embarrassingly long enough,” he says. “I’m over her but haven’t gotten around to being with anyone since.” He shuts his eyes before opening them, blasting me with blues again. “Can we pretend I haven’t tanked this by talking about my inexperience in the same sentence as an ex?”
“Only if you don’t care about my inexperience of picking up cute men in bars.”
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
“Not yet.” My finger traces the line of his beer bottle. “Still looking for a cute man. Know any?”
“Ouch.” He rubs the middle of his chest. “I’ve got to watch out for you.”
“You started it.” I get a pleased feeling that comes from keeping up with flirtatious banter, but I’m also not super invested yet. Stepping closer, I bump our shoulders to amp up the teasing and to ampmeup.
“For the record,” Judd says. “I don’t mind if you’re mean. As long as you don’t mind me being the same?”
I feel amused by his disclaimer. He doesn’t mind if we take turns being playground bullies who don’t have the language to say they like each other, so they prod and poke. Normallytaking the piss (as a Londoner might say) is a solid recipe to generate chemistry, but I don’t know. Tonight I want to juice the party of fun, not my brain for wit. I do enough brainstorming back home, making sure I sound worthy of being my famous mother’s daughter. Today I want to be only Komal. Not mean. Not necessarily nice. Just me.
“How about we feel each other out?”
He reaches down and interlaces our fingers. “Deal.”
“And we drink more.”
Judd laughs. “Double deal.”
Too late, I realize this means we’ve got to visit the bar. Too late, I realize he’s leading us there. Too late, we sit next to a pair of travellers from Japan who invite everyone around them to play a wildcard round of questions, designed to turn strangers into more so we canopen up in ways we never have before.
Only in a random hostel bar on a thick, foggy London night when none of us are home do random and emotionally risky things happen between people you’ll never meet again.
The ragtag group is forming.
Aki and George are theatre friends from Japan who’ve come to London to cram seven plays into a four-day visit. Talia is a law intern from Johannesburg with a septum piercing, and bartender Eric looks like a stereotypical theatre enthusiast with his goatee and layered scarves, and Judd is here, me… and… Huan.
He’s on the outer edge of the bar. Iwantto look at him, but because I’ve got great mental fortitude, I don’t. ForI’m on a trip, and it will not work if…
Well, if I let Huan’s presence stop me from becoming a woodland spirit with Judd. Because I’m here for freedom, adventure, memories with optional clothing, etcetera. No way I’ll let my bodyguard interrupt any thrilling activity on my horizon. Like how Judd lifts his hand and compares it to mine.
“You’ve got long fingers, but a small palm,” he says.
“All the better to”—my brain hunts for a good one-liner—“finger”—stop this—“you.”
His eyebrows dash up.
Apparently, in every situation possible, I’m a deviant. Might as well hang that title on the mantle of my forehead now. Sex pest.
