Ahmed is fussing.
‘Zeke’s gonna crash in my bed, Ahmed,’ I reassure him. ‘Don’t go to any trouble.’
Ahmed pulls clean charcoal-grey sheets from the linen cupboard and presses them into my hands. ‘I’m not letting him think we live in a hovel. Change your sheets.’
I traipse behind him into the living area. Curtis is smirking at us both from behind his laptop at the kitchen table. The sea of invoices has grown since yesterday.
‘This is hardly a hovel, baby,’ Curtis soothes. ‘You keep it beautiful, just like you.’
‘Nice try,’ Ahmed snaps. ‘You’re just excited about taking in another one. You going to fuck this one, too?’
Curtis freezes awkwardly, and Ahmed looks up. I don’t think he realised I followed him in here.
‘Oops,’ Ahmed says. ‘No offence, darl.’
‘None taken,’ I lie.
I know Ahmed. This is a big flap about nothing. He’ll be in his element, fussing over a new stray. He loves to be the martyr. Taking Zeke in will give him endless mileage for good-natured whining.
‘If you’re not comfortable, we can say no,’ Curtis offers.
Ahmed opens the fridge and stares into a leftover trifle. ‘It’s fine. It’s fine.’
Curtis takes a break and we sit on the plush white leather couches as Zeke tells us about his falling-out with Sabrina. Ahmed fusses over Zeke, bringing him a mojito with crushed ice, sugar rubbed onto the rim of the glass and a sprig of mint, and making him a toasted cheese sandwich. Zeke keeps thanking him and Ahmed beams. I knew he’d love this.
Zeke bites off a stretchy strand of cheese from his toastie. ‘I can tell Sabrina’s triggered about Shane, not me. And maybe I was too dumb to realise we were sleepwalking into a couple situation. We get along so well. She’s my closest friend. Or was. I don’t know what to do next.’ He looks at Curtis. His face, always twitchy and unsure of himself, is a mix of afraid and apologetic. ‘I only need somewhere to crash until I work out a plan. I truly appreciate this, Curtis.’
Curtis inclines his head at Zeke. ‘I am not saying this to be nice, bud,’ he says. ‘Stay as long as you need. If that’s a few days, fine. If it’s a few weeks, fine. We’ve all been there.’
‘Hank you ho much,’ Zeke says semi-coherently, breathing through hot molten cheese.
‘It’s a shame, your friend Sabrina,’ Curtis says. ‘In your version, she hurt you. In her version, you hurt her. When your friends hurt you, it stings more than when your enemies do. You thought you knew each other, and you didn’t. You have different values.’
Zeke stares at Curtis like he’s been struck by a Zeus-thrown lightning bolt. ‘Yes. She’s like, friends with someone I used to be. She’s a bit wholesome, but I’m really sexual.’
‘It’s a classic fag hag situation,’ I contribute, not quite as sagely. ‘Some girls want a genuine friendship, like Reyna. Others want a gay BFF to dump their shit on, or have a crush on you, like my old bandmate, Hannah. Hard to tell who’s who sometimes.’
Ahmed brings over more drinks. He’s gone all out, making himself a piña colada, Curtis an old-fashioned and me a gin and tonic. ‘Well, cheers!’ he says, holding up his glass. We clink them together. ‘And welcome to the Cock Pit.’
Zeke snorts into his mojito; the force of air from his nostrils sends the sprig of mint flying onto the floorboards. ‘The what?’
‘It was the runner-up name for our bar,’ Curtis explains. ‘We went with Tool Shed, but Cock Pit was a strong contender. We’ve been calling the house the Cock Pit ever since.’
‘If you need help remembering it, just think of a pit of cocks,’ I offer, grinning and holding up my gin and tonic like Leonardo DiCaprio in that meme.
‘I wanted Cock Pit for the bar,’ Ahmed says. ‘We could have themed it like an aeroplane. The sex-on-premises section could be called the Mile High Club.’
‘Sex on premises?’ Zeke asks, astonished. ‘Like a sauna?’
‘More a back room,’ Curtis says. ‘We’ll finish it and open it properly when the business is financially solvent.’
‘Cough – never – cough,’ Ahmed says, sucking the maraschino cherry from his cocktail.
‘I wanted it to be the Sausage Factory, but apparently that was too far,’ I tell Zeke.
Zeke laughs, but I notice his gaze keeps roaming over us. ‘So – all three of you live here together?’
When he texted asking if he could crash with me, I said yes, as long as he didn’t expect to be spooned. But I didn’t give him the rundown.
