Deep End(128)

“Diving, I think. The one in pairs? She and her partner got a bronze medal.”

Silver.

“Do you know of her?”

Lukas smiles. “I am familiar, yes.”



They compare their schedules as soon as they receive them. Some months are better than others.

SCARLETT: How many times do you think we’ll see each other in the next year?

LUKAS: At least one.

SCARLETT: Right, the wedding.

LUKAS: Two, if we can both make the rehearsal dinner and neither of us has to send a proxy.

SCARLETT: Sounds far-fetched. You must believe in fairy tales.

LUKAS: If trolls exist, anything can happen.



“This is Lukas, my best friend’s fiancé,” Pen says.

He cannot help a small smile.

“What?”

“The way you introduced me.” Not her own ex. Not her own friend. It seems to occur to Pen, too, and her eyes widen. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I promise I love you and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“Come on. You know I would throw myself under a bus for you.”

“You absolutely would not.”

“Well . . . under a tricycle.”

“Better.”

“I would throw myself under a bus for Scarlett, though.”

He can certainly relate to that.



He’s listening to a talk on ependymomas when his phone vibrates.

SCARLETT: Premise: love being a doctor.

SCARLETT: Love corpse stuff .

SCARLETT: However.

SCARLETT: I cannot wait for next year when we’re slightly less busy and can, you know.

SCARLETT: See each other.

Scarlett, he thinks. You have no idea.



He slips into bed after 3:00 a.m. He usually waits until he’s warmed up to pull her closer. When she’s the one to roll into him, though, all bets are off.

“Oh my god,” she mumbles in his chest. “You actually exist. I thought I’d made up a whole Swedish fiancé.”

He smiles into her hair, heart too big and too full. “Go back to sleep.”

“Nooo. Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“You’re not going to be here when I wake up.”

He smiles against her temple. “Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember how I covered Art’s shift last week?”

“Oh, no. Are you covering another?”

“Nope. Art is covering mine. Tomorrow.”

“What?” She pulls back. Her tired, dark eyes blink open. “It can’t be.”

“It can.”

“Surely you must be on call.”

“Nope.”

“It’s impossible. Check again.”

He kisses her forehead. “Just sleep. I will be here when you wake up. ”

“But . . . what are we going to do with all that time together?”

“I was hoping we’d sleep in. Then go at it like animals. Then maybe a quick break at the pool? Then back home, more animal stuff.”

“Oh my god, Lukas. What are we—a couple?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

A minute later she’s asleep. The entire universe is here, in his arms.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


As usual, it takes a whole metropolis! Infinite thanks to my therapist—and by therapist I mean my agent, Thao Le (you know what you do); to my editor, Sarah Blumenstock, and my babysitting editors, Liz Sellers and Cindy Hwang, who let me write the book I wanted to write (as opposed to the one I had, cough, promised; special thanks to Sarah, who endured years of daily harassment regarding sprayed edges; it pains me to say this, but blocking my number when you went on sabbatical was the right move); to my production editor, Jennifer Myers, my managing editor, Christine Legon, and my copyeditor, all of whom, I’m sure, had to read way more sex scenes than they signed up for when they started working in publishing; to my marketing and publicity team (Bridget O’Toole, Kim-Salina I, Tara O’Connor, and Kristin Cipolla), who have to deal with an increasingly unmarketable and unpublishable author; to my cover illustrator, Lilithsaur, my jacket designer, Vikki Chu, and my interior designer, Daniel Brount, for making my filthy book infinitely pretty.

Thanks to my foreign publishers, and in particular to Aufbau (Rollberto Rolando, Sara, Astrid, Andrea, Martina, Sophia, and honorary Aufbau employee Aleks; please note that I would not like to thank Stefanie for lying to me about someone’s ability to speak English) and Sphere (Molly, Clara, Lucie, Briony, Lucy) for hosting me so warmly, allowing me to connect with amazing German and UK readers, and feeding me doner kebab and high tea.

As usual, thank you, Jen, for the invaluable beta read. To my friends, family, and to the fellow authors I’ve had the privilege of meeting during this journey: I love you. To all the booksellers, librarians, and readers: I’m not sure I deserve you, but please know that I am very, very grateful.