“Yes. And she means it, so don’t sulk like a man-child.”
“Man-child? Where did you get that from?”
“Pretty Little Liars.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s on Netflix. I can watch it on my iPad now Mum can afford broadband.”
“Excellent,” Benito said dryly. “Glad you’re using it for productive shit.”
“Don’t swear. And come inside... please?”
Benito was too tired to resist Gianna. He let her steal his keys, lock his car, and tug him into the Barnfield Court tower block. Inside, she took his dead phone and plugged it into her iPad charger. “Now you can relax, can’t he, Mum?”
Rosetta was watching from the kitchen doorway. She smiled a little and nodded. “Of course he can. Beni, come and sit down. We’ll take care of you.”
Benito eyed them both with suspicion. “I don’t need taking care of. Is there something in the water round here?”
“Only spaghetti,” Gianna said. “Mum made carbonara. Your favourite.”
“Yeah, when I was twelve. Like you.”
“You still act twelve,” Gianna retorted. “Just sit down.”
Benito sat on the sofa. It was the same one that he had slept on many times after Gianna’s dad had thrown his bed out. Soft and worn, it cocooned him like an old friend. He tipped his head back and watched Rosetta move around the kitchen, only half listening to Gianna as she told him how well Rosetta had done with the tradesmen who’d visited to complete the maintenance work.
“They were nice,” Gianna said. “Sullivan tried to escape, but Mickey brought him back for Mum.”
“Mickey? He was here?”
“This morning,” Rosetta called from the kitchen. “He came to make sure they got the work done in a day so we didn’t have to move out.”
“And did they?”
“I think so. I hid in the bathroom.” Rosetta came back to the doorway. “Mickey said he’d call me this afternoon if they needed to come back, and I haven’t heard from him.”
Neither had Benito, and the gaping hole he’d left behind was a vortex of pain. Now things with Asa were settled, it was all Benito could think about.Hewas all he could think about. His sandy hair. His scent. His laugh.
His low groan when Benito had eased inside him.
Bitter heat flared in Benito’s chest. He focused on Rosetta, all the while drowning in the pressure behind his eyes. “That’s good,” he said absently.
Rosetta gave him a strange frown. As if his reply had come ten minutes too late.
She disappeared back into the kitchen.
Gianna plopped down beside Benito, dumping her cat on his chest in the process.
The orange beast stared at Benito, owlish and aloof. Benito stared back, as was their current relationship.
“Don’t be nice to him,” Gianna said. “He’s been bad all weekend.”
“Does that apply to everyone, or just cats?”
“Just him. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”