Thomas took a deep breath. “Listening to Scott’s laugh.”
“Arsehole,” Scott snapped.
Thomas clutched the cleaner to him and laughed like a snake.
“It’s like nails on a chalkboard times a million.” Thomas smiled at Scott, then turned to Janice.
Janice’s eyes were wide.
“It’s honestly not that bad,” Scott said. “I’ve got a professional laugh –”
“I hate that one,” Thomas interrupted.
“And a real laugh.”
Thomas nodded. “It’s a monstrosity, but it’s my favourite thing about you.”
Janice hadn’t moved, hadn’t so much as blinked.
Scott and Thomas shared a look.
“Poke her, will you?” Thomas said. “I think she’s had a stroke.”
“You poke her.”
“I’m holding the vacuum.”
Scott shrugged. “You could throw it at her.”
"Seriously?"
“Jesus, you’re smiling.” Janice clutched her chest, tumbling back a step.
“She’s definitely had a stroke if she thinks you’re Jesus,” Scott mumbled.
Janice’s eyes watered. “Scott said you were in your private room…”
Thomas nodded. “I was.”
“And you’ve come out smiling?”
“I was working on our…” He glanced at Scott. “Project. Some of the takes were kind of funny.”
“Fuck. You,” Scott said.
“But the majority of the stuff we shot was hot as hell, like a scorching, ‘ejaculate in your pants’ kind of inferno.”
Scott’s tummy fluttered. He got giddy off the feedback. That wasn’t good. He looked down, specifically towards his crotch.Fuck. You.
Janice looked lost for words and wiped a tear from her eye.
“Christ,” Thomas growled. “I don’t pay you to stand around being emotional.”
He marched off with the vacuum hugged to his chest, and they both followed him into the living room.
“If you even think about dropping that cleaner for dramatic effect, I will kick you in the balls,” Janice warned.
Thomas sighed and lowered it to the ground. “Happy?”
