Chapter Seven #2
There were various calls for drinks, and Lane eventually walked away, muttering a list under his breath.
I wished I’d offered to go with him, but it was too late now.
I glanced around the table. Alex, Noah, and Laurie were all chatting.
Theo looked to be listening, and I could have sworn he had his hand resting on Laurie’s thigh.
Lane hadn’t mentioned them being together, but they had to be given how they were sitting.
“Oh, hey,” Spencer said, pulling my focus away from random thoughts about his friends. “I recognise you. You were in Novel Tea on Wednesday, right?”
“Yeah, I was,” I said. I’d seen Spencer behind the counter, but since it had been busy, I’d been served by someone else.
I hadn’t recognised him then, but I’d been too focused on keeping an eye out for Alex since he was the one I expected to have a problem with me.
“I loved it! I’ll be back next week, hopefully with an author of mine in tow. ”
I wasn’t just saying it to be polite. The coffee shop was gorgeous, and I already knew it would be somewhere I’d be visiting regularly. It also had plenty of books to borrow and a great selection of teas, which made it utterly perfect in my eyes.
“Awesome! Come and say hi next time.” Spencer beamed at me, and I smiled in return because his enthusiasm was infectious.
“So, Oliver,” Will said, “Lane said you’re here for a couple of months?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we’re renovating my nan’s cottage. It’s lovely, but it needs a little bit of care, plus some of the internal stuff is apparently a ticking time bomb. I think they described the wiring as a fireball waiting to happen.”
“Shit,” Spencer said with a laugh, leaning on the table. “That bad?”
“Apparently so. My grandad was the one who rewired it back in the eighties, and I’m not sure how much he actually knew about electrics and how much of it was just him bullshitting his way through with an old DIY manual.”
“We had to do the same thing to the farmhouse a couple of years ago,” Will said. His smile was warm and friendly, making me feel more at ease. “My dad kept saying it was fine until we got one look at the kitchen wiring and realised half of it had been chewed. It was a bloody nightmare.”
“I don’t think the cottage’s was that bad, but my knowledge of electrics is virtually non-existent. Plus, I’ve been out exploring town, so who knows what they’ve uncovered while I was out.”
“At least they haven’t found a creepy cellar,” Spencer said. “You know, those ones with the creaky steps and a single light—a proper murder dungeon.”
“Nobody has a cellar like that,” Will said. “Not round here.”
“They might! Some of the old houses have, like, coal cellars and shit. One of them might be a murder dungeon. And it’ll be someone you’d never expect either, like some sweet old lady. Like Agnes who runs the book club on Tuesdays.”
“You’ve been watching too many horror movies,” Will said, rolling his eyes. “And from what you’ve told me about that book club, they’d definitely be able to murder people and cover it up. They’d be your primary suspects.”
I grinned. Why was it that little old ladies were always the ones who read the most gruesome murder books or the spiciest romance novels they could get their hands on.
Nan had always had a good selection of both, and it had definitely been eye-opening to find the well-thumbed collection of old Mills and Boon paperbacks by her bed when we were clearing the house out.
Especially because it seemed like she’d folded the corners down on certain chapters.
“See?” said Will. “Oliver agrees with me.”
“It’s always the book club. They’re a dangerous bunch,” I said.
“You’re probably right,” Spencer said with a frown. Then he looked down the table. “Noah. Noah would have a murder dungeon.”
“What?” Noah turned his head, glancing between Spencer, Will, and me with a confused expression on his face.
“If your house had a cellar, you’d probably be the most likely to turn it into a creepy murder room,” Spencer said. He shot Noah an earnest smile, and I could have sworn Noah’s nose began to tint.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Alex twisted in his seat to face his brother. I assumed he was glaring at Spencer, but it was hard to tell with his sunglasses. “Why would Noah have a murder room?”
“Think about it. Noah’s really cute and sweet. Nobody would suspect him at all. He’s a teacher too, and he can do all that cool stuff with chemistry. He’d definitely be able to get away with it. I’d never expect him to have one,” Spencer said. “Which is exactly why he would.”
“You’ve given this too much thought,” Will said with a huff of laughter.
“You really have. I don’t want to kill anyone,” Noah said. He gave Spencer a half smile, his nose still pink.
“I’m not saying you’d want to. I’m just saying you’d be the least suspicious person.” Spencer looked around the table and nodded as if assuring himself of his declaration.
This definitely hadn’t been the conversation I’d been expecting to have this evening, but I couldn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it. It was fun to see how the group interacted with each other, and I was happy to avoid being the centre of attention.
“Hang on a second,” Alex said—or started to say because Lane reappeared with a tray of drinks.
“Lane.” Spencer leant over the table, cutting off his brother and taking the pint Lane pointed to. “Out of all of us, who’s the least suspicious? Like, who would be the one you’d never expect to have a creepy cellar where they murder people.”
“Easy. Noah.” Lane climbed onto the bench beside me, his thigh resting against mine. The point of contact sent heat radiating through my body like ripples on water. “He’s the one who’d get away with it. Alex is the one who’d actually have one.”
“Fuck off! Why me?”
“Because you’re an angry bastard who hates everyone.” Lane grinned and passed me a glass filled with sparkling, golden liquid. “I got you cider. It’s from a local place. I thought it would be just the thing for this weather, and you always hated beer.”
“Thanks. That’s perfect.” I took the glass from him, the condensation cool under my fingers.
I couldn’t believe Lane had remembered I didn’t like beer.
I’d first tried it at sixteen when the four of us had been down at Riddle Cove, the hidden beach just down the road from Heather Bay, and my tastes hadn’t changed as I’d gotten older. I still found it too bitter.
I smiled at Lane, a new warmth blossoming across the back of my neck that had nothing to do with the evening sunshine.
“Sure? I didn’t know if that would’ve changed,” he said.
“No, it hasn’t. I still don’t like beer.” I sipped the cider, the sharp, sweet tastes of apple and alcohol bursting on my tongue.
“But you like that?” Lane watched me closely, and I was sure I saw a flash of worry in his eyes, which utterly threw me. My skin prickled, and my stomach twisted like I was seeing him for the first time. It felt like being a teenager all over again.
“I do. It’s very drinkable.”
“Good.” He looked relieved as he picked up his own glass that was filled with a dark amber liquid and raised it to his lips. I glanced across the table and noticed Will watching us with an interested expression like he knew something we didn’t.
I took another long sip of my drink as the conversation around us turned from murder cellars to body disposal. I was happy to just sit and listen, feeling the warmth of Lane’s thigh against mine, lost in my thoughts about him.