Lana was also a member of the running club. Her little feet were red and chafed, and Harry decided they were cute as she padded off to the kitchen.

As soon as Lana was out of earshot, Matt crawled across his bed towards Harry and spoke words of warning.

‘Remember what happened to your balls the last time you pissed the Janssens off.’

‘I know,’ Harry said, not enjoying the reminder, ‘but I’m way more experienced now. I get a lot of crank tips and calls, but that guy sounded properly scared and too many people in this town turn a blind eye to all the shit the Janssens pull …’

Matt shrugged. ‘If I were you, I’d stick to Ellie’s money-making formula. I know you’re after your Pulitzer Prize, but my burger-flipping ass wouldn’t be making waves if I was taking seven big ones a month from traffic accidents, girl-scout fundraisers and coupons for ground beef.’

‘I’ve told you before, if you give Fatburger the elbow, you can have a job helping me out.’

‘Couldn’t handle having you as my boss,’ Matt said. ‘And if you wouldn’t mind making your excuses when Lana gets back.’

Matt made a sex gesture with his fingers. Harry nodded like it was no big deal but felt crazy jealous. Matt’s moody-Goth act and soulful green eyes had brought him to a point where he’d switched from boasting about sexual conquests to downplaying them to protect Harry’s feelings.

‘It’s all about confidence, buddy,’ Matt said soothingly. ‘Just be cool when Charlie comes to your place on Saturday.’

Harry had opened the Uber app to book his ride home when Lana stepped back in and yelled.

‘Oh, that is so gross!’

Matt had his projector set on Cox Sport’s news, and despite the picture stretched from skirting to ceiling, the sound was down to a murmur and neither he nor Harry had noticed the horribly snapped leg of the college football player onscreen.

A slow-motion replay showed a defensive mix-up, enabling a gigantic middle lineman to plough through a gap. The quarterback’s cleat dug into soft ground as he threw a short pass, which meant his leg didn’t give as the four-hundred-pound lineman hit it hard.

‘That must be so painful,’ Matt gasped. ‘The bone’s sticking out.’

‘Is that Texas Midland?’ Harry said excitedly. ‘Turn the sound up.’

Matt was already going for the remote on his bedside table and wound back forty seconds.

‘I don’t want to see it again, you sickos!’ Lana protested, shielding her eyes as Matt hit play.

‘It’s JJ Janssen,’ Harry said, reading the name on the back of the quarterback’s shirt, as Matt turned up the volume.