“How do you know him?” I asked before clarifying. “My dad, I mean.”

“Now, there’s a story. Just let me get the spaghetti boiling first.” His reply intrigued me, and I waited as he put some dried spaghetti in a pot. Once he was done, he went back to the fridge, pulling out a can of beer and a bottle of white wine. He held it up to me. “This is Sophie’s. It’s got to be better than the shit you were drinking at the bar.”

I shrugged and he poured me a glass before popping the seal on his can. Taking a stool and resting his elbows on the counter, his posture almost matching mine, he recounted his story.

“So, I’d just turned eighteen and I was at my mate’s house party. Some weed was being passed around, the usual. All of a sudden, the lights went out and somebody starting banging down the door. A neighbour must have called the cops to come and break things up, and your dad was heading the team. Turns out the dealer at the party had been on their radar for a while, and your old man was dead set on booking him. Usually, I’d have been out the back window before you can say zip-a-dee-fuckin-doo-da, but I was shitfaced drunk. Before I knew it, your dad was slapping a pair of cuffs on me and hauling me off for a night in a jail cell.

“‘Is that a truncheon in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?’” I’d joked. Your old man didn’t take too kindly to that. Bastard twisted my wrist, nearly fucking broke it, and gave me a warning. “‘One more word out of you and I’ll have you up for drugs charges.’”

“‘Fuck you, I don’t have anything on me.’”

“‘You have whatever I say you have.’”

“Even though I was drunk, I knew to shut my mouth after that. Liam and Trev were still only young at the time, and I couldn’t afford to get sent away, even for a couple of months. I’ve had a few other run-ins with him over the years, and he’s a mean motherfucker. So yeah, my condolences and all that.”

I narrowed my gaze at him and shook my head. I didn’t doubt that my dad had said those things, but I was uncomfortable having Lee know what he was like, because that meant he also knew that my childhood wasn’t a walk in the park.

“I…I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry he did that,” I replied at length.

Lee levelled me with his eyes. “Yeah, well, I think the fact that you’re sticking it to him is the fucking business, Snap.”

He was back to calling me Snap again, but I just shook my head. It was a losing battle trying to get him to stop. Returning to the cooker, he poured his sauce into a pan, stirring it every so often. He made quick work of draining the spaghetti, and before I knew it, there was a plate in front on me. It smelled absolutely mouth-watering, so I could only imagine how it was going to taste.

“Um, thanks,” I said, glancing at him as I lifted the fork. I wanted to mouth a silent “wow” to myself when I finally tasted it. It was by far the best thing I’d eaten in a long time, and it was only spaghetti. I could just imagine what he might do with a more adventurous recipe.

“Well,” said Lee, “what’s the verdict?”

“Amazing,” I blurted before I could censor myself, and he grinned wide. “I mean, not that I’m the best judge. My work doesn’t leave a lot of room for fancy cooking. More often than not, I just end up grabbing something from the local takeaway on my way home.”

Lee’s grin didn’t falter, but his eyes did flick to the ceiling for a second.

For the past couple of minutes, I’d been trying to ignore the subtle banging coming from upstairs, but it was gradually getting louder. I glanced at Lee and he smirked, and then I laughed and he laughed, too. We shared a moment of eye contact before I shook my head.

“So, your brother is, uh, kind of vigorous.” I frowned at myself. Why the hell hadn’t I brought up a different topic? Like, say, one that didn’t involve discussing the fact that his brother and my best friend were having a roaring good time right above our heads.

“Vigour runs in the family,” said Lee.

I sputtered a laugh. “That was smooth.”

He flashed his teeth at me when he smiled. “You know it.”

The banging from upstairs petered out, and my heart gave a thud of relief. I continued eating my food, because honestly, it was too good to ignore. I was also downing the wine like nobody’s business, and when my glass was empty, Lee refilled it. I wasn’t a big drinker, so, needless to say, the three glasses I’d had were hitting me hard. I was tipsy, and being tipsy in the presence of Lee Cross was dangerous territory.

“So, you like to cook?” I said to break up the silence.

“Yup.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but it’s kind of a strange thing for a twenty-five-year-old guy to enjoy.”

Lee let out a breath. “Yeah, well, when you can remember a time when you couldn’t afford food, you tend to make the most of it when you can.”

His answer took me off guard. Damn, coming to his house had been a really bad idea. More and more I was empathising with him, and I didn’t like it. I mean, nobody likes being forced to admit they might have been a tiny bit wrong in their first impressions.

I finished eating my spaghetti, hoping it might soak up some of the alcohol. I knew Lee was watching me the entire time, but I refused to acknowledge his attention. Instead, I kept my eyes levelled in the vicinity of his right ear and told him about some innocuous story I’d seen on the news earlier that day. Lee seemed amused as ever, and if I was looking at his face, I was sure I’d encounter a knowing smile.