Chapter 16

Snacks. Let’s get comfy. Where’s your guitar?”

“In

the corner. And yeah, there are a few playlists I’d like to try out.” Riley

grinned at him, good humour restored. “With you, that is.”

They

were beyond the drunk stage but into the cosy, lethargic stage of drinking.

Riley sat on one of the sofas with an opened bottle of bourbon and a heavy

crystal-cut glass on the table beside him, and Curtis was on the other sofa,

sunken happily into the plump cushions, working his way through a huge bag of

tortilla chips and a six-pack of a very nice designer beer that Riley had

offered him. When Riley first went to the fridge to fetch them, Curtis peered

over his shoulder and saw there was very little else in there, apart from

butter and some fruit and a half empty pack of fresh pasta. Maybe Riley was due

to do a groceries shop that weekend.

Riley

had picked up his guitar at the side of the chair and was strumming quietly.