She laughed again and then hopped off her stool. Her stomach was close enough to brush against my knees when she stopped in front of me. ‘This okay?’ She gestured to the proximity and I nodded. ‘Good, so, walk me through this. Rowan, and yes, I’m going to talk about Rowan.’ I felt a flare of nerves but I also didn’t want to stop whatever was coming. ‘He’s never called you out for putting yourself down the way you do?’

I thought. ‘Well, yes. He tells me I shouldn’t.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘How does he tell you?’

He usually tuts and tells me to stop. I sighed. ‘Is there a right answer to this?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, well, I have a weird feeling I’m going to say the wrong one.’

Fred smirked. Her head dipped slightly, and her hair fell forward, and the whole movement made me want to kiss her. But I didn’t have the time. She came to stand alongside me instead, draped an arm around my shoulders in a display that could have looked like friendship, and with her free arm she made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the room.

‘Pick someone.’

‘I’m sorry?’ I craned to look at her expression, but she was staring into the crowd.

‘Pick someone who you find attractive.’

It was hard to pick out anyone at all, between the mass (mess?) of people and the deliberately dim lighting that set the mood of the place. There was one man, though, who stepped aside to let a woman walk ahead of him. Manners, apparently that’s what I find attractive. But rather than admit that aloud to the outrageously beautiful woman who was still touching me, I kept looking. After an uncomfortable length of time, I finally pointed to someone: a man around my age, dark hair that was faded into a longer cut on top; he was wearing black jeans and a T-shirt under a blazer, smart but not too smart.

‘Him,’ I said, and then dropped my arm quickly in case he turned.

Fred tilted her head one side then the other. ‘Okay. Let’s say I buy it. Go and talk to him.’ She ushered me from my seat as she spoke. ‘Say hi, ask him to dance.’

‘Are you mad?’ I turned around to face her, then, my back to the crowd. ‘Why?’

‘Because you find him attractive, and we’re in a bar.’ She made it sound like the most obvious explanation in the world. ‘Why wouldn’t you talk to him?’

‘I mean, to start with he’s a solid eight and I’m definitely a four in the right ligh—’ She cut me off mid-word with a kiss. And I didn’t care who could see. When she pulled away my mouth stretched into a smile. ‘What was that for?’