Page 57 of Crave

“Yeah.” He gave a small smile, eyes on the telly for a beat then picked his plate back up to put it on his knees. “How’s Keeley?”

“Would you believe taking to motherhood like she was meant for it?”

That got a proper laugh out of him. “Bet she has. On her own, though?”

“Darren’s moved in.”

Lennon’s brows shot up. “No shit.”

“Yeah. Shocked me too. He’s an absolute waste of fucking air most of the time.” I didn’t mention the gun. That’d open doors Lennon didn’t need to walk through. “But sometimes, when he’s holding Maisie, I swear there’s hope for him.”

“Fatherhood’ll do that.” Lennon picked up his fork, nudged his rice. “Makes you see yourself different. Gives you something to lose.”

“Or something to prove.”

He gave me a sidelong glance, knowing exactly where my head was at. “Having someone who loves you’ll do that, too.” He went back to his food. “You should tell him to come down the ring.” Lennon ran a youth boxing club, keeping kids off the street and out of gangs. Ironically. “And you.” He pointed his fork at me. “You should try it.”

“Boxing?”

“Having someone to love.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Didn’t rise to it.

“Speaking of.” He glanced over his shoulder to check the hall. “You got anyone these days? Someone hoping to get you straight?”

Nice choice of words.

“Who the fuck’s gonna do that?” I scoffed. “Ain’t many queuing up for a man like me.”

He shook his head. “You’d be surprised. Some people love a lost cause. You’ve still got that sad puppy look that used to get us free kebabs.”

I snorted.

“You’re not as repellent as you think.” He shovelled a forkful of rice into his mouth. “There’s someone out there who goes for the white-trash-thug vibe.” He looked at me. “Bet the blokes love it.”

My chest tightened, heart giving one hard thud before I flicked my gaze to the doorway. To the floor. Anywhere.

“Oh, give it a rest, Rich.” Lennon tore into a chicken leg, grease shining on his fingers. “She don’t know. I don’t know. But we guess, yeah? Guessed years back. Don’t matter. Just means when you finally work out you don’t have to live where you’re living, doing what you’re doing, answering to who you answer to… maybe you’ll come clean. Maybe we can have a conversation about it. And maybe I’ll tell you it’s all good.” He looked at me. Right at me and I swallowed. “I don’t care who you fuck, Rich. As long as you do it with heart.”

He said it so easy, but I could hear what he meant under it. He wasn’t only talking about who I fucked. That he’d figured out I was into the other kind. No, he was talking about who I’d become. I swallowed hard. The silence following had teeth. And the telly burbled on about general knowledge questions and prize money no one in this room had.

So I cleared my throat. “I brought something round for you.”

He looked up, wary now. He always knew when I was about to fuck the mood.

“Twin buggy. Got it from Layton. Was meant for Kee, but the twat dropped off the wrong one. Top range. Folds like a dream, comes with car seats. Thought it might help.” I rubbed a thumb over the cut in my knuckle, not meeting his eye. “If you want it.”

He didn’t answer straight away, the corners of his mouth twitching as if fighting two versions of himself. The friend who’d grown up beside me, and the man who didn’t want dirty money in his hallway.

“Layton, huh?” He shook his head. “Since when you running buggies through your line?”

“Since I got sick of seeing my mates struggle.”

Lennon set his plate down on the table. “You mean since you got more cash than you can spend without burning it.”

That one hit. Clean. True.

“Just take it, bruv.” I glanced away. “No strings.”