Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I eventually make it to the top of the stairs, and then negotiate each step in turn, holding on tightly to the balustrade. “Oh good Lord,” I mumble when I catch sight of myself in the mirror on the wall in the hallway. I look ninety-two. My stubble is overgrown, my eyes look like piss holes in the snow, and the muscles of my torso are protruding more so than usual, a clear sign of my dehydration. “Liquid.”
I fall into the kitchen and open the fridge, scanning the shelves for my beloved coconut water. My mouth waters when I lay my hand on the carton, and my shaking fingers can’t get the cap off quickly enough.
“Hey, bro.” Something hits my shoulder, and I jump a mile in the air, dropping the carton and spitting out the contents of my mouth. All over Todd. “Seriously?” he yells, grabbing a towel and wiping himself down.
“What the hell?” I gasp, my heart clattering like no tomorrow. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“You look rough.” Todd gives me the once-over with suspicious eyes. “You been out to play without me?”
“I was with Pops. What are you doing here?” I dip with caution to collect my carton of coconut water, grumbling because it’s now half empty, the rest of my juice pooling the floor.
“I slept on the couch.” Todd grabs a cloth off the side, chucks it on the puddle at my feet, and starts to swish it around with his bare foot.
“Why?”
“I told Charity I was staying with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to stay out, and I didn’t want her to kick me out because I stayed out. Lads’ night playing cards and collapsing on your sofa to save a taxi seemed like the perfect excuse. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”
“Because it’s lying.” I laugh, and then wince, reaching up to soothe my head. “I don’t know why you don’t just go home at a reasonable hour.”
“The fun only starts at midnight.” Todd smiles brightly, and it pisses me right off, because I know for certain that he had a heavy night on the booze too, yet he’s showing no signs of a hangover. His blond hair is too short to have bedhead, and his pretty face too pretty to look rough.
“Why don’t you just end it with Charity?” I ask, not for the first time. “It’s only been a couple of months.”
“She had post arrive yesterday.” He drops to a stool at the breakfast bar.
I sink what’s left of the coconut water and gasp. “That’s it, mate. You’re under the thumb.”
“Never.”
“Hey, boys,” Amanda purrs from the kitchen door, pulling Todd’s and my attention her way. She’s dressed. Good.
“Morning.” I say, watching Todd’s eyes crawl back to me, his lips stretched in an annoying grin.
“Morning, indeed,” he whispers. “So you tracked him down, then?”
I throw Todd a dark look, the wanker, as Amanda struts over to me. Her lips land on my cheek and linger. “It was fun.”
Was it? I can’t remember. “Yeah,” I say like a shitbag, straining a smile when she slinks off. “I’ll call you.” I’m deplorable.
The front door shuts and Todd starts laughing. “I’ll call you,” he mimics, his voice high and girlie.
I smile, but that smile drops like a rock from my face when I spot something on the worktop across the kitchen. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing my carton of coconut water at the box on the side.
Todd looks over his shoulder. “Oh,” he says, slowly turning back toward me, his lips straight.
“It is, isn’t it?” I question.
“I’ll get rid of it.” He holds his hands up in defense. “It’ll be like it’s never been here.”
I bristle, backing out of the kitchen. “Those things infect everything within a five-hundred-meter radius. I won’t be able to touch a thing until I’ve disinfected the entire house.”
Todd rolls his eyes dramatically, which only serves to piss me off more. He knows how I feel about those devil things. “It’s a fucking kebab, Luke. Chill the fuck out.”
“Loaded with fucking chilies.” Todd’s a nightmare for hot food, stuffing chilies down his throat until he’s sweating. Hot sauce on every-fucking-thing, polluting every single perfectly fine dish he eats.
He gets up and grabs the box off the side, holding it up before slamming his foot on the pedal on the bin and dropping it inside. “There. Gone.”
“Put it in the bin outside,” I order shortly, heading for the shower. “And the anti-bacterial spray is under the sink.”
“You know only real men can take spice, right?” he calls.
“I’m allergic, you twat.”
“Seriously, dude?” He laughs. “You’re not allergic, you’re a pussy.” Todd is standing at the bottom of the stairs when I reach the top. “Let’s go out tonight.”
“I’m not in the mood.” I round the landing. “Fuck off home to your girlfriend.”