Page 118 of Moonlighter

“No!” I snort. “Of course I can drink.”

I am verygood at drinking.

Yup. I’m a champ tonight. Anton has his big break and we’re made of tequila and by… Okay, I have no idea what time it is. But the whole world is a big limey hug.

It might be late, though, because I just looked up to see that all the women are gone. That’s a clue. When the respectable people have turned in for the night, it means something.

I forgot what, though.

“Will you take a photo of me in the jersey?” Anton asks.

“Of course,” I promise.

“Gotta send it to my girlfriend.”

“Send her a jersey,” I suggest, because I’m brilliant. Especially tonight. “Put ‘cher name right on the back and mail it to her. Then tell her to wear only the jersey and call you.”

“Dude, you have it all figured out!” Anton shouts. He shouts a lot. All the time, maybe. “How many goals I gotta score before they make a jersey with my name on it?”

“Dunno,” I say, shaking my head. The room is spinning just a bit. “For a defenseman? Five? Ten?”

“Ten! She’ll forget my name before that. You got a girlfriend?”

“Hey—I want to know, too,” Drake chimes in. He sounds less drunk than I do. “Weren’t you dating Alex Engels?”

“Yes no,” I say, because I’m drunk, and it best describes the situation. “I have a thing for Alex Engels. But we aren’t a couple. I mean, we do all the things that couples do. Really good things. And I want her to be happy, but…” I scrub my forehead. “I don’t think she’s taking it seriously.”

“Bummer,” Drake says. “When is her baby due, anyway?”

“Dude!” Anton shouts. “You have a pregnant girlfriend? Shut the front door. Nobody tells me anything.”

“She is—” I let out a giant belch “—pregnant for sure. But she is not my girlfriend and I am not the father’s baby. I mean…” I have to think about it for a second. “I am not the baby’s father.”

“Really,” my cousin says. “But then what? After the baby comes, are you two still getting it on?”

“I don’t think they can,” Drake points out. “After my brother’s kid was born, they weren’t allowed to.”

“Ever?” I gasp.

“Not for like six weeks.”

Oh. That doesn’t sound so bad.

“So how pregnant is she?” Anton prods. “Like, a little bump in the middle, pregnant? Or, like, dump truck sized?”

“Not a truck!” I insist. “More like a whale. Her word.”

Anton’s eyes bulge. “And that turns you on?”

“Everything about her turns me on. She’s just so…Alex.” I sigh.

“Holy fuck. I-I can’t believe this,” Drake sputters.

“What?”

“Dude, you’re inlove.”

“Nah,” I say, laughing.