Page 25 of How To Tackle A Crush
“That’s worse.”
I glance up.
“That’s the dangerous kind,” she explains. “Men who don’t realise they’re charming usually are.”
I don’t answer that because I am not entirely sure what I would say.
Instead, I open my notebook, more for something to do with my hands than because I need it.
“So what happened?” she asks more gently. “You seem… different.”
Different? I’m not different. At forty three, you don’t change just because a handsome man looks at you.
“I spoke,” I admit.
Her eyebrows rise slightly, not mockingly. More like she knows that mattered.
“You asked something?”
“He didn’t really give me a choice,” I say. “He called me out. There wasn’t really a graceful escape route.”
Chloe’s mouth curves. “Oh God. Public participation. Your worst nightmare.”
“Yes.”
“And you survived.”
“Barely.”
She shifts slightly in her chair, curiosity winning over teasing now.
“So what did you ask?”
I look down at my notebook, though I already know the line by heart.
“I asked why he was really here,” I say. “Not the football answer. The… actual reason.”
Chloe nods slowly. “That’s bold.”
“I didn’t mean it to be.”
“And?”
“He said he chose the right environment.”
Chloe studies my face like she’s trying to see what part of that stayed with me.
“And you bought that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I hesitate.
Because the real answer feels strangely personal.
“Because he didn’t sound like he was trying to convince anyone,” I say finally. “He sounded like someone who had already convinced himself.”
