Husband Material (London Calling, #2)

by Alexis Hall

“Anyway”—I gave a sickly smile—“this is Oliver Blackwood, my boyfriend. Oliver, this is Jonathan…” Aaaand I couldn’t remember his surname. “This is Jonathan, who I knew at university, but we didn’t like each other.” “Good to know you’re still a cock, Luc,” said Jonathan. Strangely more in his element now I was asking him to be polite to an arsehole in a suit, Oliver offered his hand. “Lovely to meet you. If it helps, Luc didn’t like me either.” “I like you now,” I protested. Oliver laughed. “I should bloody well hope so. It’s been two years.” “So…” Jonathan had always had the eyebrows of an angry cartoon character, and now they knitted together ominously. “What didn’t he like about you?” “He thought I was boring.” “Me too,” said Jonathan. “Oliver, I didn’t,” I lied. “I just thought you were…you know, overachieving and a bit serious.” And too good for me, but I was fucked if I was admitting that in front of Jonathan. “Being overachieving and serious are very underrated qualities.” You could never tell if Jonathan was joking. He delivered everything in the same unplaceably accented monotone. For whatever reason, Oliver had concluded that was both a joke and one he could join in on. “Perhaps we can exchange details. Then we can meet up some day and discuss our favourite shades of beige or compare pension plans.” Jonathan glanced at me. “Keep this one, Luc. He’s all right. Anyway, what are you doing these days?” “I work for a charity that protects bugs that eat shit.” Two year...