“Because you put your tongue in my mouth first.I didn’t want your tongue to feel lonely.”
“You’re so fucking thoughtful!Excuse my language.I mean, you’re so fucking thoughtful.”
“You already said that.”
I clench my arms around his middle and press into him.I can’t get close enough.Of course, this is fucked up and stupid, but I don’t care anymore.I want closer and I want more.
I want Declan.
“When do I get to see both your boobs?”
I pull away from him, lose my balance, and nearly smack my head against the building.He catches me, and we slump together in another embrace.
“You have to marry a girl before you’re allowed to seebothboobs at the same time,” I say into his chest.“One boob is allowed for New Year’s Eve, but anything more has to be saved for marriage.”
“I fucking hate that rule!”he yells.
“That’s probably why Evander stole Phoebe away to marry her.He wants to see both of her boobs.”
“You’re so smart.You’re like a famous detective from a TV show.”He rests his chin on top of my head.
“That’s my favorite show,” I tell him.
“Which one?”
“The detective one.”
“Mine too.But I have to tell you something.”
I smile.Because I don’t care what he wants to tell me—whatever it is, I’m totally fine with it.Because this is Declan.
“I might be drunk,” he says.
“I’m not.I never drink more than two beers in a night.”
“I know, right? And you had zero beers tonight.So do you really think Phoebe is showing Evander her boobs right this minute?”
“Declan!”I try to turn us so that I’m not against the wall.I need to move.My legs are falling asleep.“You’re a genius!They’re probably getting married right this second because they’re having a New Year’s wedding!Why didn’t I think of that?It’s the ultimate in romance!Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to stop the wedding!”I drag him by his hand through the crowd, reaching the corner.I look up and down the snarled streets for a taxi, not even sure if they exist anymore, since taxis have been taken over by rideshares.
But I got this.
I stick two fingers against my tongue and let go with the kind of brain-splitting whistle I use to round up cattle.It works like a charm.A taxi skids up to us.
We fall into the back seat.I’m pretty sure the driver didn’t even come to a complete stop before he forced his way back into the stream of traffic.
“Where to?”
“We need to find Evander and Phoebe,” Declan says.
The driver closes his eyes like he’s annoyed with us, which is kind of rude.And maybe dangerous for someone driving a car.But I bet he’s had more than his share of drunks like us tonight.
“And where are these people?”he asks.He sounds very tired.
“They’re getting married,” Declan says.“I’ll give you a thousand dollars cash if you can take us to any wedding chapel that’s open.”
