Page 105 of Lucky Night

Is she furious? He can’t tell. She should be. He’s been such a dick about this.

You must hate them, she says.

What?

You never told me you read them. You must not have liked them.

Oh God. This is torture.

I do like them, he says. Very much.

You like my books, but you never toldme?

Well…

No, it’s not that you never told me you had, she says, it’s that you told me you hadn’t.

Technically I implied it, he says. I never explicitly said—

Shut up, she says. Why didn’t you tellme?

He sits beside her. I don’t know. I meant to tell you after I read the first one, but by the time I saw you next, I felt like…you were already getting all this praise. What did you need to hear it from me for? And I was embarrassed about how much I liked them. They’re for teenagers! I’m a snob, an elitist. I have my dead Austrians and so forth. It was uncomfortable to find myself so taken by something I wasn’t supposed to like.

You were having feelings, she says. We know how much you hate that.

I would have gushed, he says. You know me. I don’t gush. About anything. I joke. I play. So that’s what I did. It was a way of talking about them without sharing what I thought. To praise them would have required a level of sincerity that’s difficult forme.

You praise my tits sincerely all the time.

True, he says, but that’s…actually, that’s a good point.

Gush.

What?

Gush about my books, she says. Now.

But you hate compliments.

I’ll cope.

Okay. Well, you created great characters, and a totally believable world—even the supernatural stuff. You have a natural ear for dialogue. Julian in particular is so witty, so alive on the page. The story is propulsive—I was never waiting for you to get a move on. And that’s only the first book. The second is even better.

Most people prefer the first book, she says.

Fuck most people. They’re useless. The second book is richer, and fuller. And sexier. But the best part of both of them? How you write about love. Jesus your books are romantic, Jenny! The way you describe how Julian and Sophie look at each other, how they react to each other, their conversations. How they touch. You capture what it really feels like to fall madly in love.

That’s enough gushing, she says. I can’t—

It’s epic, it’s ridiculously over-the-top, but so is love! he says. No wonder people go apeshit over your books. I don’t know how you did that, it’s—

Stop! She hides her face in her hands. I can’t takeit!

Are you pissed I didn’t tell you?

Maybe, she says. I should be. You’ve given me so much shit about them.

I know. I’m sorry. But the good news is, I’m really looking forward to reading the third book. When does it come out?

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