ONE
TYLER
Tyler Jones put his glasses on and frowned at his phone.
“What’s that, man?” Alistair, Tyler’s new housemate, peered over his shoulder, wafting the smell of cigarettes and stale booze over Tyler.
“It’s an over-the-door sex swing,” he replied, holding the phone to the side.
Alistair frowned. “What the fuck? It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?”
Tyler put his phone down on the rickety old dining table and grabbed a piece of toast from the plate in front of him. “I’m doing a little preparation. No harm in that.”
He grimaced as Alistair helped himself to the other slice. Sharing didn’t bother him. The yellow-stained fingers Alistair was using to accomplish the task in hand certainly did.
“Good for you. Putting the work in.”
“Just trying to get a head start.”
“Boning up. So to speak,” Alistair said. He sat on the other chair and munched on the piece of toast before throwing it down on Tyler’s plate. “Ugh. I can’t eat yet.”
Tyler gently shoved the half-eaten bread away from the rest of his breakfast. “Heavy night?”
Alistair drew his dressing gown closer. “We got some pills from Amsterdam. I only got home an hour ago.”
With eyes like saucers and a nervous tic, Alistair wouldn’t be out of place onThe Walking Dead.
“Will you ever learn?”
They both looked up to find Honey, the third member of their odd little household, standing in the doorway. She worked as a singer in a bar on Brighton’s seafront.
Today, her hair stuck out at different angles and she appeared to have left her stage makeup on. It made for quite a disconcerting image.
“I hope not,” Alistair replied. “Where would be the fun in that?”
Honey sank down on the sofa. “Did I hear a sex swing mentioned?”
“This pervert here is on about them,” Alistair said. “Apparently it’s work prep.”
“I bet you’re looking forward to it?” Honey asked.
That was quite the question. Tyler had thrown caution to the wind accepting this job. For it not to work wasn’t an option.
“Yeah.,” he replied. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“I’ve got a mate who used to work at Pleasure Seekers,” Honey replied. “He loved it. You’ll be fine.”
Tyler was grateful for the encouragement. “I needed to hear that. I’m shitting it, to be totally honest. That’s normal, right?”
“Shows you care.”
“Hey,” Alistair said. “Can you get freebies?”
“Al,” Honey exclaimed. “He’s only been here a couple of days. Play it cool, man.”
Tyler had been in Brighton precisely forty-seven hours. Trusting a house share based on photos had bitten him firmly on the arse.
The dining room he was currently sat in had mottled wallpaper that looked like it came from the nineties. The carpet hadstains on that Tyler didn’t even want to know about and his bedroom was almost too small to fit his suitcase.