Page 32 of Death Kiss

Kat is looking from me to Freddie and back, her eyes incrementally widening until she looks like an aye-aye who’s about to spontaneously combust. She better bloody not, as it’d be on me to mop up her innards and goop. Best friend or not, that’s asking a lot.

‘I did text,’ Freddie says as I hand over a pint. ‘A few times.’

‘What can I say, I’m a busty lady.’

It takes me a second to realise what I just said. ‘BUSY. I’m a busy lady.’

Kat chokes on a laugh before shaking her head. ‘It’s the lady part I’d be disagreeing with.’

That’s when Freddie glances at her. As much as I love Kat, she’s the one who usually draws guys’ focus. Not because I’m not pretty enough, but because there’s this magnetism to her. An urge to stay in her orbit. Thank God she isn’t a mean girl; she’d be an absolute menace to society. ‘Kat,’ I say. ‘This is Frederick Baker, a paper peddler and professional nosey fucker.’

Freddie stretches a hand out to Kat, which she takes, her own practically lost in her hoodie sleeve. Weird.

‘It’s Freddie Baker. She’s trying to wind me up.’

‘Succeeding, I’d think,’ Kat says, taking a deep sip of her wine.

‘This is Kat Elliott. My best friend, and a general ray of sunshine.’

‘Kat…’ Freddie repeats. ‘Just the woman I’ve been hoping to meet.’

That’s weird. Why does he want to meet Kat? I’m not sure if the boulders I feel in my gut are jealousy or protective ones.

‘Have you?’ Kat asks, not even looking at him.

‘Ellie wouldn’t let me set up a meeting.’ He takes a sip of his beer, the condensation on the bottom dripping down his long fingers.

Woman. Calm down.

‘Probably thinks you’re a twat,’ Kat responds, deadpan.

‘Kat!’ The word is practically a gasp, and Kat shrugs at me.

‘Journalists are all twats.’ She shrugs. ‘Nothing personal.’

Freddie looks from me to Kat. I don’t know what to tell him; she’s usually a sea of sparkles meeting new people. Have I judged Freddie wrong? Are her girl senses tingling in a way mine aren’t? The ones in her gut, that is.

‘You’re not what I imagined, either, if that helps.’ Freddie is trying to sound charming, to put her at ease, but for some reason, Kat’s got her back up around him.

‘I really don’t care to concern myself with the things you imagine about women you don’t know.’ Kat’s words drip with ire, bringing a hot flush to Freddie’s face.

While Kat sounds in control. Hell, I’d say uninterested in Freddie. There's a light sheen of sweat across her forehead.

‘Can I just ask you a few questions about your relationship with Sam?’ Freddie goes in business first, and I want to slap him upside the head and point out how she’s clearly not feeling whatever this is.

Kat narrows her eyes. ‘My what?’

‘With Ellie’s boyfriend, Sam.’

Turning to face Freddie, Kat plasters him with a sweet but very false smile. ‘He was dating Ellie, not me. My relationship with him consisted of ordering coffee.’

‘I just⁠—’

Kat stands, maintaining that odd smile. ‘Really must get going. Nice to meet you, Freddie.’

‘Are you coming on Sunday?’ I ask. ‘Mum’s been missing you and Liam.’

Kat visibly swallows, her eyes flicking briefly to Freddie.