Page 68 of The Refusal

I weave through the busy tables. “Kate!” I say, and her head snaps up as she grins widely.

“Hey, tech princess.” She rises from her seat and I pull her into a warm hug. The give of her body is so familiar, so solid and warm, that it brings a lump to my throat. I’m desperate to offload the swarm of bees lodged in my chest. I need her sensible perspective to quash the giddy thoughts. For the first time in my life, work is buried under something else.

She narrows her eyes. “No comeback to that one?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, Doctor, too distracted today; I’m no use to anyone. I’ve been longing to talk to you.”

She raises an eyebrow at me in typical restrained-Kate fashion and motions at me to sit like she’s doing a consultation. “Fire away,” she says.

I take a deep breath and gesture to the coffee counter, heading over to place my order before coming back and plonking myself down opposite her. I hardly know where to start.

“So how was Hong Kong?” she says before I can get a word out, and I put my head in my hands and groan.

This gets me a typical Kate laugh.

“That bad, huh? Was resisting the life force that is Janus Phillips a problem?”

“I didn’t resist him.” I talk down to the wood grain of the table.

“What?” she wheezes, leaning forward and whisper-shouting, “Oh my God, why didn’t you call me immediately? Holy shit, Jo, you keptthisquiet? This is epic. I bet you guys are so cute together, discussing HTML or whatever you techy people get so excited talking about.”

I give her what I hope is a patient look, but I can see from her face that she’s thrilled, and in this warm moment I understand suddenly thatthisis the reaction I was looking for; some reassurance that I’m not a lunatic for doing this. Shushing her with my hand, I lean forward, and the woman at the next table glances over at us as I lower my voice.

“I didn’t call you because I wanted to tell you face to face,” I say, and she grimaces at me in a way that tells me what she thinks of this.

“I needed time to process where my head’s at, but oh God …” I roll my head on my neck, trying to pull my thoughts into order. “Thinking about it on my own is making it all worse.”

She’s grinning at me in genuine delight now; the way only a proper friend will do.

She holds her hand up, palm forward in my face. “I want to knoweverything,” she says. “You can talk about how you feel in a moment, but start with what he’s like in bed.” Her smile is pure evil. “Are the rumors true?”

I think about the first night—Janus coming so fast—and laugh. It was like being a student again, the awkwardness, both of you having next to no experience, fumbling your way through a maze of how to give pleasure to each other.

“What rumors?” I say, still smiling, but I can’t quite squash down how much I dislike the idea of rumors. I don’t want there to be rumors about his sex life; he already feels like he belongs to me.

She tips toward me, talking quietly now. “That he’s a sex god?”

Someone walks behind me and jostles my chair, and I pull it forward, glancing back and letting my gaze skim over the people at the next table, the windows softly steaming up with the coffee and the breath of a hundred customers, the people hurrying past outside. The loud bang of the barista emptying coffee grounds jerks me back into the conversation.

“I don’t know about that.” I think about his quiet intensity, his soul-baring, his focus on my pleasure and his delight in giving it. “He knows how to look after a woman in bed.”

“Oh! Oh no, missy. You are not getting away with a statement as bland as that. I need details.”

“Only if you are prepared to give me the lowdown in return.” I quirk an eyebrow at her.

This will fox her: Kate is notoriously uptight. Sure enough, she sinks back in her seat, making a face at me.

“I like the way you think I’d have anything juicy to share,” she grumbles, stirring her coffee. “My sex life is as quiet as a graveyard and about as exciting.” She stares down at the cup and her lips gradually lift up. “So … you’re thoroughly satisfied right now?” Her smile grows improbably wider.

“Oh God, Kate. On the one hand, I absolutely cannot do this, I cannot do this with Janus Phillips. He’s well known. If it gets out, there’d be so much scrutiny, and it could scupper everything. I’ve worked so hard. Am I really going to risk it all for a guy? But …” I let it all roll over me, all the things we did and said, and I meet Kate’s eyes. “I like him. I mean, Ireallylike him. We have fun together, and the sex …” I take a sugar lump from the bowl on the table and pop it in my mouth, “I’ve never been with someone where I wanted it to go on and on.” I drop my voice, shivering. “Usually, it’s one orgasm if you’re lucky and that’s it … you know? But this? I think he could give me one orgasm after another—”

Kate raises her eyebrows and I grin at her.

“—And he did,” I say, and she stretches out her hand and high-fives me, both of us grinning like a couple of teenagers.

“And you know … it would still not be enough.”

I want so much from Janus, but I’m shying away from examining it because every time I do a vice squeezes my ribs. Something about Kate’s easy acceptance is unwinding all the tightness coiled inside.

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