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“In your dreams.” I moan and turn back to stare at Nate sprawled on my sofa. “I guess you’re going to have to come up then.”
“Most women are excited to invite me up to their place.”
“I’m not most women.” I hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. It brings a smile to my face. “And there’s no smoking at mine.”
I watch as Kaan scrutinizes my building, trying to decide which apartment might be mine. Spotting me peeking through my curtains, he grins and drops the cigarette into the gutter, crushing it with his foot. “Happy now?”
“Flat five. Second floor.”
“See you in a few.”
I shut my mobile, hit the light switch and the room springs to light. I poke Nate who’s still snoring away on the sofa, blissfully unaware of the drama that’s about to unfold in my bedsit. “Wake up, Nate.”
“Sod off, Meg.”
I poke him in the chest a few more times. “You’ve got to wake up.”
He moans and looks at his watch. “No, I don’t.”
“Kaan is outside.”
Nate opens his eyes wearily. “What?”
Courtney sticks her head out the bathroom door. “Who’s outside?”
“The singer. You know… Kaan.”
Courtney looks at me incredulously. “Is this some kind of hook-up?”
“Have you been getting it on with this guy?” Nate sits up and rubs his eyes. “I knew it! Courtney, you owe me 50 quid!”
“You both suck.” My mobile rings again and I don’t even need to glance at the number before answering it. “Good morning, Brynn.”
“Is he there?”
I let out a loud yawn so my boss knows that she woke me. “Rather early, isn’t it?”
“Is he there?”
“He’s coming upstairs now.”
I sigh, knowing that whatever comes out of Brynn’s mouth next is going to ruin my day.
“We’re at DEFCON 1!”
I’m not hungover but it really is too early to be this dramatic. I grunt down the phone at my boss.
In my peripheral vision Nate is answering the knock at the door. He’s only wearing boxers. “Sup, bruv?”
Kaan slaps Nate on the back before swaying back and forth. “Am I in the right apartment? Who are you? Where’s my girl?”
“I’m Nate.”
“Nate and… my Nutmeg.” Kaan looks like he’s going to either lunge at Nate or pass out but thankfully he does neither. Instead, he spots me and staggers towards me, arms open. I can smell the alcohol seeping from him, and I side-step as he tries to hug me. He rubs his hands over his face and turns back to Nate. “Nutmeg doesn’t really like me that much.”
“Not possible!”
“She called me a wanker.” He turns back toward me, his eyes slowly raking over my body until they finally latch onto mine. “You look sexy as fuck, right now, Nutmeg. I always knew you were a fan!”
