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“Shhh,” he kisses the top of my head, “if Rog doesn’t come around on his own. I’ll kick the shit outta him for you.”
“I know you would. But I can fight my own battles. Have you seen my Kung-Fu moves?” I raise my leg and make a karate chop with my hands but lose my balance falling on my drunk butt.
“Yeah, impressive,” he smirks helping me up.
He opens the door helping me in and walks around to the driver’s side. “Wanna hit up Dairy Queen on the way to the pool hall?”
“There’s a DQ here?”
“Yup”
“Well it’s a good thing I didn’t know that before or I’d have to run ten miles a day. Damn, I’d drive an hour for that shit.”
“You’re a cute drunk, Dev.”
“Gee, thanks. Now get me ice cream before I go insane.”
And for a one drunken moment I feel a ray of sunshine pierce through the clouds. I know both Rog and Duke will come around and just need to figure out which spade to bash their heads with: My planting spade or my Kate Spade spiky heels?
“Hey Mac. Change of plans,” I grin.
“Oh yeah? You re-thinkin’ all the calories you havin’ today?”
“Fuck, no. In my drunken state—it just came to me.”
“What?”
“What I want my tattoo to be.”
“No. No—way. It’s permanent babe. I won’t take you drunk.”
“I disagree. It’s the perfect time. I’m too buzzed to feel pain. Well, except the pain in here,” I place a finger on my heart.
He shakes his head, “Promise you won’t kill me in the morning?”
“Pinky-promise.”
“Hell no. I ain’t makin’ fuckin’ pinky-promises.”
“Just shut up and drive,” I roll my eyes as he pulls out on the main road. I’m getting a tattoo tonight and then I’m going to find a way to make Rog love me again.