Page 51 of The Last Days of Lilah Goodluck

“No. She’s just a friend.”

“Is she just a friend like I’m just a friend, or is she a special friend?”

He just looks at me.

“Ignore the last question. It’s none of my business. Thank you for doing that for me.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I am a little surprised, is all. It’s just that some of the photos looked a bit... What’s the word?”

“Intimate?” he asks. “I never touched her ass. I know it looked like it in the photo, but that was just the angle.”

The conversation has turned awkward. Awkwarder. It’s all his fault for bringing up sex again. I thought we were just friends. We agreed we were just friends. Now I don’t know what’s going on.

A low, sonorous chiming sound fills the house.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Guess that’s the food. That was fast.”

“Can’t be,” he says with a frown. “I haven’t ordered yet.”

Next comes the distant sound of fists banging and someone yelling. And what they’re saying is “Open this damn door. It’s time for Thursday-night drinks, you fucker.”

Said fucker just sighs.

12

Alistair is not impressed. “What are you doing here?”

Two men carrying brown paper bags push past him. They both look me over with interest. Not in a checking-me-out way. More of a curious friends thing.

“Lilah,” says Alistair. “These are my business partners, Gael and Shane. They won’t be staying.”

“Hello, Lilah. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” Gael is a charmer. It’s obvious in the very warm smile on his handsome face. Business is obviously good, because he’s dressed head to toe in designer wear. It’s in the name on his sneakers and the cut of his jeans and button-down shirt. “To think I brought you my grandmother’s tamales, you ungrateful ass.”

“I do like your grandmother’s cooking,” concedes Alistair. “What did you bring?” he asks Shane.

“Beer,” says Shane simply.

“I like that too. But you’re still not staying. Neither of you.”

“There’s been a proposed update we want your opinion on. It won’t take long.”

“Bullshit.”

Shane has dimples and curly blond hair and uses a mobility aid. He’s also dressed casually in jeans and a Henley. “Hey, Lilah.”

“Hello,” I say. Not nervous at all. Much.

“Come sit with me.” Shane ushers me through to the couch, collecting the gaming system as he goes. “Do you play?”

“I used to loveMinecraft. Then my much younger cousin kept filling my house with chickens.”

“Children can be brutal.” He rests his cane against the chair and gets the game started. “The aim ofThe Collectiveis to establish a postapocalyptic community. You scavenge for supplies to house, feed, clothe, and provide medical aid for your people. While fighting off bad guys, of course.”

“I’ve heard of this. It’s really popular.”

“We’ve worked on a couple of games. But this one in particular has done well for us.”

“Yeah. I read an interesting article about how the themes of found family and social justice are incorporated into the narrative.”

“Alistair handles the bulk of that side of things,” says Gael, unpacking containers of food onto the dining table.

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