Did you see Alistair’s face?” Quin asked.
“This wasn’t for your amusement,” said Matheus, closing the door after him.
“Too late, I’m already amused.”
Matheus leaned against the door, his arms folded. Something about Quin jangled his nerves. If Matheus hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Quin was sloshed. Quin still moved with the same fluid, controlled movements, but his voice held a bright looseness that Matheus associated with an evening of double scotches. He narrowed his eyes at Quin.
“Are you trying to look stern?” Quin asked. He leaned against the opposite wall, mimicking Matheus’ pose.
“You have to stop this thing with Alistair. One of you has to be the adult and you’re older.”
“First day as the Second Coming and you’re already giving orders. My, your head swells fast.”
“Don’t even,” said Matheus. “I know you’re not a believer.”