“Yeah?”
“Looks good. Happy.”
“That’s nice.”
“Selling condos in Burlington.”
I take a sip of my coffee. I don’t say anything. I look past Gavin into the living room, where there is not one single other guy. The house is empty.
“Where is everybody?” Gavin says.
I do the math without doing it out loud.
Benson is at Lucy’s.
Blue’s at Melly’s.
Rowan? I have no idea.
Percy’s upstairs. Percy is the only other man under this roof still living by the rules on that wall.
“They’ll be back,” I say.
Gavin smiles into his coffee. It’s the smile of a man who has watched this exact scene play out in this exact kitchen, four years apart, with a different set of boys at the table.
“Yeah,” he says. “They always say that.”
He doesn’t push it any further. He doesn’t have to. Three of the five guys who live here are at some stage of breaking the rules off that wall.
I set the mug down, pick a banana from the bowl, and peel it.
“What’re you doing today, Gav?”
“Media at one. Couple-hour shoot. Free after.”
“Cool.”
Neither of us says one word about what either of us is doing tonight. The implication sits on the counter between us.
My phone buzzes in my hoodie pocket.
I pull it out. I read it. The kitchen narrows by a degree.
“Her?” Gavin asks.
I don’t look up. “Yeah.”
“Good morning, future Mrs. Ermington?”
“Gav.”
“I’m just saying. She’s quick on the trigger this morning. Weren’t you just there?”
I type a reply, don’t read it twice, hit send, and pocket the phone. I drink the rest of the coffee standing up. I drop the banana peel in the trash.
“I’m out.”
“Already?”
