Page 25 of Faithful

“Put your fucking pants on, Watson! And whoever you are!” she orders. “Right now!”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice. I yank up my jeans, peering at the sofa first, then at Kai standing a step behind me. He’s already half-dressed and is pulling his sweater on, his movements quick and efficient. He’s shielding his own secrets. His scars.

“Why the hell are you back?” I shout at Leigh across the room, shaking with anger and disappointment. “You’re supposed to be in Cancun.”

She ignores my question. “And here I thought some dumb neighbor parked his van in my spot…I swear you’re lucky I was too angry to call a tow truck right there and then. Are you two decent yet?”

“Yeah, we’re decent!”

She drops her hand, her narrowed gaze bouncing between Kai and me. “Explain this, please, both of you.” She walks toward the center of the room and halts in front of the sofa that’s separating her from us. “And I’m not talking about the part where you forgot to mention you’re into guys, Watson. I’m talking about the part where you’re fucking a guy whose nose you broke last year.”

I feel like clarifying that there’s no fucking involved but decide that the specifics should remain private.

As I look at Kai over my shoulder, I find him fumbling through the pockets of his coat.

“I need a smoke,” he says blankly. “I’ll be out on the balcony.”

* * *

Shaken by the rude interruption, I fail to notice how bloodshot Leigh’s eyes are.

It’s only ten minutes later–after an impressive screaming match–when the two of us eventually pour out onto the balcony to join Kai while he’s killing one cigarette after another that I realize my best friend doesn’t look right.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Cancun?” I mumble, at the same time peeking at Kai. He’s leaning on the balcony railing, his face turned away from us and toward the green branches that are obscuring the city view, which in a situation like this is pretty useful. At least the paparazzi won’t get to see him hanging out here. Unless they climb up a tree, of course. But with a camera, that could prove to be difficult.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with”–she points her beer at Kai’s back–“him… and you wanting him dead?”

“Ladies first,” I say insistently, wiping the condensation from my can with my fingers.

“When did you get so polite, asshole?”

“I’ve always been polite.”

“Polite men don’t leave the toilet seat up after they’re done taking care of business!”

“It literally happened twice! I’m still adjusting to sharing a bathroom with a woman.”

“You’re going to wake up the entire neighborhood,” Kai says dully, glancing at us over his shoulder.

We descend into a moment of awkward silence, and he uses this silence to turn around and take my beer from me.

Leigh downs more of hers before speaking up. “Paul and I broke up.”

“That’s why you two cut your vacation short?”

“I did. That piece of shit stayed in Mexico.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I’ll break his fucking face.”

Leigh shakes her head. “Oh, please don’t, Watson.” She looks up at Kai, who’s back to leaning on the railing. “He’s the perfect example of how wrong things could get.”

“Your friend has a point,” he says, setting the can of beer he stole from me aside for a second to light up another cigarette. “You may end up in bed with Paul.”

That puts a smile on my roommate’s otherwise gloomy face. “Anyway.” She exhales loudly. “Do I need to buy a new sofa?”

---