We drove back separately that evening, Rohan beating me back to Demon Club. By the time I pulled in, he was already parked, sitting on the hood of his car, Skyping with someone.
"Your mom threw that shirt out years ago."
I pulled up short at the Indian-accented man's voice coming out of Ro's phone.
Rohan clutched his T-shirt possessively. "She can keep thinking that."
His dad laughed. "Coward. Are you coming home for the golf tournament?"
Another man, this one with a mild Irish accent chimed in. "We need you, son. Don't leave me alone with Dev."
"You can't get enough of me, Liam," his dad replied.
"You play golf?" I whispered. How many secret talents could one guy possibly have? Was this all rock stars or just Rohan being an over-achiever?
Rohan looked up from his phone. "Badly, under protest, and only for charity events."
"Who's that?" Dev said.