‘I didn’t hate you,’ I say quietly. ‘I never hated you.’

We stare at each other in the dim light.

‘You were wrong, you know,’ he says.

‘When?’ I say.

‘When you were listing your worst qualities.’

‘I’m not controlling or anxious?’

‘Oh, you’re controlling and anxious. But you’re also fun. I’ve had a lot of fun since we’ve been living together.’

‘Fun with me?’

He laughs.

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Why do you find this so hard to believe?’

‘Name the most fun you’ve had with me.’

‘Well, you introduced me to the delights of The Vampire Diaries. That can’t be underestimated. Just hanging out with you is fun. I feel like…I feel comfortable when we’re together.’

‘Me too,’ I say.

‘But the best time I had with you was the night of Harper’s birthday,’ he says. ‘The part before the fight, obviously.’

‘That part was fun,’ I say carefully. This feels dangerous. This is a pathway we don’t need to go down. We’ve just made it back to our friendship, a nice, safe place where I can manage my feelings.

‘It didn’t feel like we were just pretending,’ he says.

‘No, it didn’t.’ My brain is buzzing, and my hands are sweaty.

I want to get up and run away. Minty must sense my nervousness. She opens her eyes and gets up, stretches, jumps onto the floor and leaves the room. I want to scream after her, Don’t leave me! I need emotional support right now!

‘Would you ever want that?’ he says, so quietly it’s almost a whisper. A piece of his hair has fallen over his forehead, and it takes all my power to stop myself from pushing it back.

‘A relationship like that? Sure.’ I say. I’m being deliberately obtuse.

‘I mean, would you ever want that with me?’ he says. His eyes are soft and he’s looking at me in a way I don’t think anyone has looked at me before.

‘Would you?’ I say, my voice rising a little, louder than I want to be, but I can’t help it, because here we are again. ‘I heard you, remember. I heard you say no when Harper asked if anything was going on.’

He shakes his head.

‘That was because of the house rules, because I didn’t want her to think anything was happening, and because nothing was happening, technically.’

‘But the way you said it,’ I say, closing my eyes. ‘You meant it.’

We’re talking in and around things. We’re talking about being together without actually saying it. We’re fighting about it without saying it. This is the worst possible way to go about things, because I won’t even get a moment, a nice moment before we fought, before I shut things down, a nice, clear, definite romantic moment to hold onto.