‘Nope.’
‘What do you like to do on an evening?’
‘Well, as I’ve just moved back to this part of the world, I’ve been catching up with my mate, Jamie, a lot. He’s just bought a flat in town, which he’s renovating. We also like a game of pool.’
Hearing about his friend and their love of playing pool earns him another tick in my book. This could be an advantage for me. We wouldn’t have to interact much, as I work during the day, and he would go out in the evening.
‘You’ve lived here before?’
He nods. ‘I grew up in Bristol. My mates and I used to come here for a night out. I moved to London after university, and then Dad moved to Cornwall.’
He smiles at Lenny and scratches him under the chin.
‘Why have you moved back here?’ I ask.
He pauses and the light dims in his face. ‘The London life wasn’t for me any more.’
There’s more to that answer, but he doesn’t elaborate. I make a mental note and move on to the next question. ‘How neat or messy are you?’
He runs a hand through his wavy hair. ‘I’m mostly a tidy guy.’
‘Mostly?’
I observe a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’ He grins, which makes my heartbeat accelerate. I find myself scribbling down the words,Watch his dangerous smile, Nelly.
I look down at the next question. ‘What would you say are your annoying habits?’
He crosses his legs. ‘I’ve been told I talk in my sleep.’
‘Well, if you don’t talk too loudly, I’ll be happy. Any other bad habits?’
‘I used to annoy people when I read my draft novels out loud, but as I’m not writing…’ His eyes survey my living room. They linger on the painting above the fireplace. ‘That’s intense.’
I turn to look up at Frida Kahlo’s painting,The Wounded Deer. To me, there is something comforting about witnessing someone else endure my levels of romantic bad luck and be pierced by arrows. I appreciate how, despite all her heartbreak, she still stares ahead like I do.
‘It’s comforting,’ I murmur.
When I turn back, he’s casting me an odd expression. I ignore him, continuing with my interview questions. ‘What would you say are your good habits?’
‘Hugs,’ he says, with an air of confidence. ‘I have been told I give the best hugs.’
Every part of me flinches. ‘You can keep those to yourself.’
An awkward silence descends upon the room. I flick my eyes to my notes.
He speaks first. ‘You’re not a fan of hugs then?’
‘No,’ I say, keeping my focus on my notes. Another peculiar silence follows.
I stare at the next question. This is an awkward one. ‘Are you single or…’
He interrupts me. ‘I’m single, and before you ask – no, I am not dating. What about you?’
‘Single.’
‘Are you dating?’
‘No,’ I scoff and then regret it, as the less he knows about me, the better.
