Page 35 of The Refusal

In the uneasy silence that follows, I press a fork through the avocado with far too much vigor. “You’re amazing. Any woman would be lucky to have you,” I mutter into the bench. Sometimes the best you can do for your friends is to try and defend them against themselves.

But the whole conversation is making my body droop. I’m about to put some tracking code on his system. He’s a decent guy. Why am I not just talking to him? For several seconds, I’m tempted to let it all spill out, but Jo’s on her own in the tech room and I need to keep him in here chatting. I’m too far down the path to pull back now.

“What’ve you been working on? You still looking at that library system?”

“Yeah, still busy with that. Got a bit farther, but not there yet. Can’t tell you about the other stuff I’m doing, though.” He winks.

“Story of our lives. Did that person respond about the Python script?” I don’t care what he talks about now as long as he keeps talking.

This is our usual conversation, and he’s off, telling me about the tools he’s discovered recently and the chat room stuff he’s been reading and a whole tale about some guy who claims he’s taught his dog how to code. I putter about making coffee and trying to think of anything but why I’m here. He pulls up the video, and we watch as the guy puts his Rottweiler in his seat with its paws on the keyboard. Fabian is bent over laughing, and, as he doubles up, I see Jo leaning against the door frame, eyes wide and smiling. How long has she been standing there watching us?

“This is like the best tech tutorial,” she says, and Fabian straightens and grins at her, reaching out and ruffling her hair.

“Yeah, watch and learn, little girl.”

Jo screws her face up and sticks out her tiny tongue at him, and then asks him a question about password AIs that blows my mind, and Fabian raises his eyebrows as he struggles to find any kind of sensible answer.

I start to laugh at the expression on his face, then she stretches up and ruffles his hair.

“Watch and learn, little boy,” she says, and then we’re all laughing. And oh, the joy of this! The unbelievable idea that I might have found this cool woman who is so awesome she can give Fab a run for his money. My throat thickens and I have to turn away. I’m pretty sure he understands me well enough to get what a dreadful softie I am. His hand comes out and touches mine briefly, ostensibly to help with the food, but I know what he’s doing.

She’s got aboyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Janus.

Boyfriend.

I suck in a sharp breath and stare at the three heaped plates on the bench, turning back around to hand her the now-cold toast piled high with feta and chili.

She gapes at me. “How much do you guys eat?”

It makes me laugh, and I clear my throat.

“Come on,” Fab growls, grabbing his plate, “I want your thoughts on this library system I’m trying to hack into.”

The whole afternoon goes by in a blur of watching them chat about hacking and exploring tools on the Web. I’m slightly envious at how they share stories, the way she jokes with him. But I also don’t think Fab has many strong, calm, organized people in his life, and it’s nice to witness. Eventually, Jo and I are out on the street turning our collars up against the cold air that’s spreading its icy fingers over the trees and cars around us. My brain is lit up, refreshed. The weak February sunshine has long since disappeared; I’ve never felt less like ending an evening.

“He’s great.” Her voice is concealed behind one of her scarves, and she shifts it down, smiling up at me. My gut tightens.

“He’s a lovable nut for sure.”

“But God, so knowledgeable, Janus! Knowing I’ve got someone like that on the other end of my attempts to keep systems safe is terrifying.”

I wave my hand in the vague direction of the Clark Street subway, shrinking down into my jacket as I study our feet on the sidewalk. My beaten-up old sneakers, her short steps.

“Yeah, I know.” I pause. “Did it go okay?”

She nods and her breath comes out in a whoosh. “Yes, I put it on there. I’ve buried it well but”—she chews her lip—“he’s seriously switched on, Janus, and so paranoid; I can’t guarantee he won’t find it.”

Her cheeks are pink with the wind and her lips look bee-stung, as if she’s been thoroughly kissed. I groan inwardly. I can’t keep my brain in gear when we’re together; my whole body wants to lean into her. Stomping my feet against the cold, I try to shut down the swarm of thoughts.

When I pull myself back into the conversation, she’s chewing on a finger. “I’m worried about this, about him. What if this is something bigger than him? What if heisbeing blackmailed? Some of the things we talked about today …” She hesitates. “He’s involved in a lot of highly illegal stuff.”

I nod. “I know.” Pursing my lips, I blow out a long breath.

“Um—”

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