I groan. The sound comes out much more pitiful than I intend.
Hex raises an eyebrow. “That bad?”
“I have to go to my parents’ for dinner.” I slouch in my chair like a teenager being told they have to go somewhere terrible. “My cousin got engaged. There’s a dinner party. I have to go or my mother will never let me hear the end of it.”
“Ah.” Hex’s expression is sympathetic in a way that still somehow looks smug. “The dragon’s den.”
“You have no idea.” I wrap both hands tighter around my mug.
“I do,” says Hex, remarkably solemn.
I stare at him.
He shudders. “I remember your mother.”
My eyebrows rise. Of course. Hex is the same monster who lurked under my bed as a child. It’s strange how often I forget that.
“She was very thorough in jabbing her broom under your bed while loudly asserting nothing was there.”
Hex’s morose expression makes me smile. “Okay, you have some idea,” I concede.
I take a sip of coffee. Thoughts of the impending dinner party swirl through me, filling me with dread. “My cousin James is a senior analyst at whatever. He’s the same age as me. He went to the same school as me. He had the same opportunities as me. I will be hearing about this constantly and at length.”
“And you?”
“I’m a barista who lives in my uncle’s flat.” I smile tightly. “I’m the cautionary tale at the dinner party.”
“You’re extraordinary,” Hex says, his voice shifting into something lower. Something that sounds completely genuine rather than falsely flattering. “Anyone who can’t see that is an idiot.”
Heat floods my face. I look down at my coffee. “You have to say that. You’re feeding off me. You’re biased.”
“I say what I mean,” Hex says simply. “Always.”
I believe him. That’s the terrible thing. I believe him completely because he’s never once softened anything for my benefit. He toldme I was a doormat. He told me I was transparent. He called me adorable in the most infuriating way possible . He doesn’t compliment me to make me feel better. He does it because he means it.
Which is somehow worse than if he was lying. If he was lying I could dismiss it.
“They’ll also ask about my love life,” I mutter, steering myself back onto safer ground. “Or rather, the complete absence of one. It’s their second favourite topic after James’s salary.”
“And what will you tell them?”
“Nothing. I’ll smile and deflect and eat my dinner and count down the minutes until I can leave.” I pause. “Actually, I’ve had this fantasy. Just once, I’d love to turn up with someone. Just to see their faces.” I let out a short laugh that comes out more hollow than I mean it to. “I even looked at escorts once.”
Hex blinks. “You looked at escorts.”
“They were very expensive.” I hold up a hand before he can say anything. “Before you judge me, I was having a very bad week and I just wanted to see the look on my mother’s face when I walked in with someone who looked like he should be on the cover of a magazine. It’s not a crime.”
“It’s not,” Hex agrees, his voice completely neutral. “It’s actually very funny.”
“I’m glad my humiliation amuses you.”
“Everything about you amuses me.” He says it warmly enough that it doesn’t land as an insult. Almost. “So instead you’ll go alone and smile and deflect.”
“That’s the plan.” I drain the last of my coffee. “I mean, it’s not like I have many other options. I can hardly turn up with a shadow monster, can I.” I say it lightly, as a joke, because it is a joke, obviously. It’s absurd. It’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever said.
I don’t look at Hex when I say it.
I’m not entirely sure I want to see his expression.
