“You can be, and that’s what I love about you. You were always picking fights, and then you went and made it your full-time job. Picking fights with bellends who deserve it.”

“Well, we have a lot of them in America.”

“We have a lot of them here, too. Might need to take your show on the road.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

“And you?” Louisa asked, stirring her drink with her striped paper straw. “Are you seeing anyone?”

It was a completely normal question, but it still felt like an arrow to the heart.

She took her time with her words, willing herself to answer sincerely, no matter how anxious it made her feel. “I’m actually not, not right now.” She paused for a deep sip from her drink before continuing. “And, not for a pretty long time, if I’m being honest. I’ve had a few boyfriends here and there but nothing serious.” She paused again. “I think because I never really got over that guy from college.”

“The gay one?”

“No,” Alex laughed. “That’s my best friend. It’s his wedding this weekend. But, no, the guy from the friend group I played chess with.”

“The asshole.”

“Well, it’s complicated, but yes, he was not my favorite person when I worked here.”

“‘Not your favorite person?’ Lex, please, I think I’ve probably spent more hours of my life listening to you bitch about that man than I’ve spent learning Greek.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.” She winced, not at embarrassment for having talked about him, but with regret for having wasted so many years of her life obsessing over him while doing nothing to give them an actual chance. “Well, anyway, I never really got over him, and then he was on the bachelor boat trip I’ve been on for the past week.”

“Is that where you were? The photos looked insane, I was wondering what the hell was going on.”

“Yeah, I mean, Paul comes from a lot of money.”

“He’d have to. We have yachts like that come in and out of the harbor, it’s usually some greasy tech founder and a bunch of influencers.”

“This was… not exactly like that. But similar.”

“But, so, he was there?” Without breaking the conversation, Louisa indicated to Georgie that they would like two glasses of ice water. “The college guy—what was his name?”

“Danial.” His name was sweet in her mouth, and at the sound of it her body flooded with memories of the other night, the exquisite feeling of him between her legs. “Danial Azad.”

“Nice name.”

“Nice everything.”

“Oh?” Louisa cocked an eyebrow as Georgie dropped off their waters.

“Yeah, it was… a lot.”

“A lot as in, what exactly?”

“As in, we hooked up.”

“Stop. On the boat? Also, I need a photo of this man.”