‘It’s not,’ I lie. ‘That was . . .’ I’m at a loss for words. That was electrifying, terrifying, hopelessly sexy, something I want to happen again, something I can’t let happen again . . . ‘Um,’ I hesitate. If there is ever a moment to tell Hugh the truth, it’s now. I try to formulate how to explain it. I’ve been pretending to be my sister sounds a little psychotic.

‘If it isn’t about before, is it about your sister?’

I am wondering how he read my mind when it clicks. Millie’s surgery. The surgery I’ve conveniently forgotten about all day because I’ve been distracted and having fun and only thinking about myself.

Hugh takes my guilty silence as an affirmative and scoots closer to me, wrapping a large arm around my shoulders. ‘Hey,’ he says, his voice low. There is so much to that word, hey. I feel cared for, and seen, and valued all at once. There is no ask for anything physical, there is only Hey, I see that you are sad. I am here.

I sink into his chest, grateful to have him next to me, unable to think straight.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No,’ I murmur. I know there’s nothing I can do from out here and I know this is where Millie wants me to be, but it feels wrong to be enjoying myself so fully while she undergoes a terrifying procedure, and I hate not knowing how it turned out. It feels like I made a bargain with the universe where I got to go do this and I have to find the butterfly wrasse in order to earn it.

We sit in companionable silence. The heavy heat of Hugh’s arm hovers on the fringe of my thoughts. He runs his fingertips gently up and down my skin. It feels like this is the emotional version of what happened earlier, and now that we’ve crossed two bridges, there’s no going back. We’re into each other. Or at least, one of us is into the other and the other thinks they’re into someone called Millie.

I like Hugh. I really like Hugh. He seems like a good person despite his know-it-all tendencies. I can’t keep lying to him.

Just as I’m about to open my mouth, Hugh speaks first. ‘Tell me what your sister is like.’

‘Umm,’ I hesitate. It makes the most sense to give Millie my actual job, so I go for it. ‘She works in business. Operations for a cereal company. Pretty run-of-the-mill.’

‘Hmm,’ Hugh grunts. ‘And you guys are close?’

‘Depends on what you mean by close,’ I say, biding time as I figure out if I should continue describing myself or if I should switch to actually explain Millie and maybe cut down on the lies a little.