Chad is no better, gushing blood from both nostrils. Sebastian has him leaning over the sink and is pressing a bag of crushed ice to the bridge of his nose. “You stupid bastard. What the f**k do you think you were doing?”
“We were only…” Chad’s voice is muffled against the bag hanging by his face and has a nasal twang.
“I know what you were ‘only’… I could smell the f*****g testosterone.” Sebastian sounds furious, but as he speaks, his eyes lift to Charlotte’s and they exchange smirks.
“Was there a point to this?” she says to Michael. “Something to be achieved?” Her tone is acid. “You have a face like strawberry jam gone bad.”
Richard, Beth and I each perch on stools by the breakfast bar, taking in the circus. “Drink?” I murmur.
“A glass of red would be good,” says Richard.
“I’ll ha
