“It already is.”
And that’s the truth.
* * * *
Two of the choices arereallydamned good, and Carter even takes a little sip of each. Then he orders two sixty-four ounce growlers of those to take home with us later.
But we’re not done yet.
He orders me a glass of each, larger than the glass he’d had.
“Enjoy.”
I’m definitely drunk now, and giggle a little. “Wow. Planning on taking me home and having your way with me, sir?” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “Because you probablytotallycould at this point.”
He rests his elbow on the table, props his chin in his palm, and smiles. “Don’t give me ideas, buddy. Or are you offering me that blowjob instead of laundry option?”
I hold up the first glass, a dark amber barleywine. “Another couple of these, I might just bend over and let you fuck me, if you promise to give me a reacharound.”
“Oooh,baby.” He blows me a kiss. “Lucky for you I believe in informed consent, and a drunk can’t consent.”
I struggle not to blow beer out of my nose as I laugh. I love that we can joke around like this without it getting weird.
Then again, I amreallyfucking drunk now.
And I’mlovingit.
This has truly been the most perfect birthday of my life, one where I don’t feel resentful or like I’m a disappointment.
I know I’ll cherish this night—as much as I can remember of it—for the rest of my life.
* * * *
I barely remember the drive back to Susa’s. I do remember I kind of lean on Carter to make my way outside the tap room, the world spinning a little. I squint as we approach the Snot Box.
“I love you, sir, but your car is butt-ugly.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, it is. But we’ll never lose where we parked it.”
“This is true.”
Fortunately, I don’t throw up in his car. I’m not that drunk, I guess. We make it to Susa’s and he makes me wait in the Snot Box while he goes inside first, turns off the alarm, and puts the two growler jugs in the fridge. Then he comes out for me and helps me out of the car. I don’t want to lean on him too much and hurt him, but I over compensate and almost fall over the other way.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “You’re going to fall.”
“You’re so nice to me, sir, and I don’t want to hurt you!”
He snorts. At least, I think it’s a snort. “You’re drunk, Owen. I’vegotyou. Lean on me, buddy.” He gets me inside and heads straight for Susa’s room.
“Oooh! Looks like I’m going to bed with you after all!”
Now he definitely laughs. “That’s right, Owen. You’re going to sleep with another man tonight.”
“Haha! Does that make me a metrosexual, sir?”
He sits me on the edge of her bed as he laughs again. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means, buddy.” He kneels in front of me to help me get my shoes and socks off. I stare down at him, his hunched shoulders, and for a moment I wish our positions were reversed.
I wish it was me kneeling, for him or Susa, at this point I don’t even care.
