"And they have an equally interesting texture," Charlie said, nodding.
Peaches - duh - you fucktard, Shaw. They were still there, of course, and always would be in the warm tint of her hair and the boom of her skin, but to remind her of Deacon's nickname for her had been a spectacular gaffe even by Charlie standards.
For something to say he said, "Speaking of interesting textures, have you met my friend Allan yet? He moved in a couple of weeks ago."