Page 51 of Are You There, Moriarty?

I sat down on the sofa and watched him through the archway as he went about filling the kettle and putting it on the burner of the stove.

Hmm, old school. I liked that. I had a gross old electric kettle at my mom’s, but I liked the idea of boiling water on the stove.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked him.

“A couple of years. I got a good deal on the place, but it needed fresh paint and a bit of renovating. My parents helped me with a down payment, but the place is mine. It’s a good investment for the future and, for now, it suits me.”

“I like it. It’s very homey.”

“Thanks. You said you live at home, with your mom?”

“I’m staying with a friend right now,” I said. “It’s complicated.”

Alastair tossed teabags into two mugs. “Complicated?”

I sat back and stared at the ceiling.

“Technically, I live with my mom. Or, at least, that’s where most of my stuff is.”

He frowned. “But you’re not staying there now?”

“Not if I can help it, no.” I lowered my gaze to his. “I’m looking for a room to rent because I can’t stay with Esther longer than a few weeks. She has roommates.”

He didn’t say anything, just continued making the tea. I took a second to relax, lounging on Alastair’s leather sofa and staring at the darkness out of the window.

“You can shut the curtains if you want.”

I walked to the window and pulled the navy drapes closed. It made the room seem smaller, but I was happy with the privacy. I felt cozy and safe.

“The remote for the fireplace is on the mantel if you want some heat.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I got the remote and pressed the power button. There was a hiss as a blue flame reared to life.

“You have a really nice home, Mr. Kenney.”

He laughed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Toby. Call me Alastair.”

Chapter Ten

Friends

When the tea was ready, he asked me how I took it, so I made a dirty joke because, hey, it was me. Alastair laughed but he told me to behave myself, which gave me a bit of a thrill, to be honest.

He brought the mugs out and put them on the narrow coffee table.

“This looks like a bench,” I said.

“It is a bench. But it’s the perfect size for the space.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Your place is really cool.”

It wasn’t a lie. He’d decorated it with traditional furniture but there were modern touches as well, such as metal-legged plastic chairs around the dining table and modular bookcases.

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