We sat on the bus, both smiling like fools, our sides touching from thigh to shoulder, neither of us in a hurry to put even an inch between us.

“How’d your pasta go last night?” he asked.

“It was so good, and the carb coma was great too.”

He laughed. “Maybe you could make it for me one day.”

My heart squeezed and I felt a little faint. “Sure. I’d love that. Um, how did your work thing go? Weren’t you taking some work home?”

“Got it all done,” he replied. “Well, what I could get done. But it’ll give me a head start on next week. It’s one of my biggest contracts and it’s almost done, so it’ll be good to wrap it up.”

“Are you just being modest, or is it a really big accomplishment that other internet ninjas would be envious of?”

“Internet ninja?”

“Yes, all that dark-net stuff you do.”

He laughed, but he also blushed. “I like internet ninja. But okay, yes, I’m being a little modest. It’s kind of a big deal.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine. “You can be honest with me. If you’re the best at something, you can just own it. I won’t judge. I’m totally the best librarian in all of Sydney, possibly Australia, just so you know.”

He chuckled. “You are?”

I nodded. “Yep. I have trophies and everything.”

His grin widened. “They have trophies?”

“No. But they should.”

“Like the librarian Olympics?”

“Yes! Oh my God, that is the best idea ever. I can see it now. Merry and I would make a kickarse synchronised cataloguing duo. We would totally smash Mrs Mullhearn.”

“Who’s Mrs Mullhearn again?”

“She’s our boss. She’s just recently celebrated her 258th birthday, and she’s an expert on Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales and Merry and I are almost certain it’s because she bound the first editions herself.”

Hennessy snorted. “Pray tell, which events would you smash Mrs Mullhearn in?”

“Well, all of them. But I’m taking gold in the Decathlon of Motherfuckers. That’s where the contestants have to find ten ways to incorporate it into varying library scenarios. You get extra points for creativity and cadence. Samuel L Jackson is the presiding judge.”

He laughed. “Lucky for you he’s not competing, because he’d be tough to beat.”

“I know, right? He’s the master.”