“Okay.”
“Fill your glass first.”
I laugh. “You’ll have me pissing all afternoon.”
“Does your head feel any better?”
“Aye, it does, actually.”
Theo grins. “Then quit complaining. Come on. We’re going to put a film on. You’ll only get a say in what we watch if you come now.”
I usually keep myself to myself, but an afternoon watching a film with four of my housemates sounds like a pleasant way to spend my time. At the very least, it might distract me from thinking too hard about Callan.
* * *
“Where’s Hendrix?” Quinn asks as the film ends. He slept through most of the film but woke up in time to see the climax.
We exchange glances. I was expecting Hendrix to have come to drag us all into the kitchen for two truths and a lie by now. By our ears if necessary.
I shrug.
“Maybe he’s waiting in the kitchen.” Theo stands. “I’ll go look.”
“We might as well all go,” Preston says.
One by one, we file out of the lounge. I’m the last out, right as Callan comes down the stairs.
He gives me a nervous smile. “Hi. Are we playing a game or something?”
“That’s the plan. I thought you’d gone out.”
Callan frowns. “No.”
On cue, the front door opens, and Hendrix walks in. “Hi, Doms, I’m home.” He lifts the bulky bags he’s carrying. “I’ve brought snacks. I bumped into Rubin while I was out, so I invited him to play.”
“You make it sound like a play date,” I mumble.
“I’m not into age play, but if I were, it would be a play date.” Hendrix grins.
“You bumped into him?” Quinn sounds slightly dazed.
Rubin, Quinn’s stepbrother, appears behind Hendrix. “He dropped by my flat to use my—”
Hendrix spins around and shakes his head. “It’s a secret. Remember?”
“Oh, right. We bumped into each other. It’s a small world after all.”
I almost expect him to burst into song. Thankfully, he doesn’t.
Hendrix looks at us like he’s doing a mental head count. “Oh, good, everyone’s here. Kitchen.”
I think Hendrix would have clapped his hands if they hadn’t been full.
We file into the kitchen and sit around the large table. With Rubin and Callan, we’re back up to eight. Hendrix pulls an assortment of crisps, biscuits, sweets, and soft drinks out of one of the bags.
“Could someone put these out for me?” He bats his eyelids.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
