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“Those sound fancy,” Ambrose said, and yawned.
“They’re pretty good,” Liam agreed. “Hey, why were you sleeping with the door open?”
“Oh,” Ambrose said. “Don’t move the shoe! The key snapped off in the lock, and?—”
A sudden blast of wind blew the door shut.
“And I didn’t want that to happen,” Ambrose said.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Liam replied. “It won’t have locked or anything.” He crossed to the door. He jiggled the handle, and it didn’t turn. He tugged it, and the door didn’t shift. “Oh.”
Ambrose looked vaguely apologetic. “I propped it open because the sticky-out bit was sticking out when it snapped, and I thought it might lock.”
“Tongue?”
“Maybe later.” Ambrose grinned and reached for his phone on the nightstand. “Your parents will have a spare key though, right? They can come and rescue us. What’s their number?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Liam said. “We’ll have to look it up.”
“Yeah,” Ambrose said, and frowned at his phone before tossing it on the bed. “And my battery’s dead. You’ll have to look it up.”
“I can…” Liam felt the pockets of his jeans. Then his front shirt pocket. Then the pockets of his jeans again. “I…”
Ambrose’s eyes widened. “Don’t say it! Don’t you fucking say it, Liam!”
Liam squeezed his eyes shut. “I left my phone at the house.” He heard an odd strangled sound, and opened his eyes to find Ambrose contorted on the bed with laughter. “This isn’t funny!”
“It’s hilarious!” Ambrose said, red in the face. “It’s fine! It’s fine! I’ll get my charger.” He rolled off the bed and crouched down beside his overnight back. He rifled through it, stopped, then rifled through it again. “Uh…”
“Is this where I tell you not to say it?” Liam asked.
“Okay, so the good news is I know exactly where my phone charger is,” Ambrose said. He stood up and winced. “The bad news is, it’s in Sydney.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not! I swear!” Ambrose made that strangled sound again—the one that was trying hard not to be a giggle. “But your charger’s here, right?”
“Oh!’ Liam grabbed the end of the cable off his bedside table. “Do you have an iPhone?”
Ambrose’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I have to leave you. This can never work out. I’m an Android boy.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Ambrose said. “I like their operating system. I find it more user friendly, though I am well aware I’m in a minority on that account. Also, who wants to drop thousands of dollars on a new phone?”
“Not about that! God, are you serious that my plug won’t fit your socket?”
Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “In the interests of you not strangling me right now, I’m choosing not to say what I’m thinking. But you should know I’m thinking it really, really, hard.”
“Shit,” Liam said, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Are you laughing? Stop laughing! It’s not funny!”
Ambrose did not stop laughing. “It is funny, though! We’re trapped, and there’s only one bed! But hey, at least we have sandwiches! Besides, someone will come looking for us when we don’t turn up for dinner, right?”
Liam wrinkled his nose.
“Right?” Ambrose prompted again, raising his eyebrows.
“Mum might have told me to bring the sandwiches since you already missed dinner with the family,” Liam admitted, “and she thought we’d like some alone time. It’s supposed to be a romantic weekend, after all.”
