He nodded. “No problem. I’m heading over now.”
Drew rubbed his cheeks, pushing around the pads he’d secured to his gums. “These feel fucking weird. I don’t know how Brando managed to keep them in. It feels like I’ve been punched.”
I smoothed down my newly shaved mustache and straightened my bow tie. “We sound like it too. But we look fucking cool.”
Our costume choice was two-fold.
First and foremost, comedy value. Second, because we knew how good we looked in a tux, and we both had a girl to impress.
“What’s Molly dressing as?”
“She wouldn’t tell me. What about Emerson?”
If I didn’t know him, I’d have said he was a dirty old man with the laugh he let out. “She’s coming as Jessica Rabbit.”
“Oh man, you are deep in trouble. You’re never gonna last until midnight.”
“Tell me about it! And I don’t give a fuck.”
Murray sauntered into the hallway as we entered the house, bearing a very uncanny resemblance to Thor, but he must have been wearing some kind of muscle padding underneath because there was no way he was that stacked on a regular day. He stopped in front of us, giving us a once over, his eyes narrowing with what I can only call ill-concealed jealousy as he took in our awesomeness.
“Why are you both dressed like James Bond with toothache?”
“What? We’re fucking not. We’re Marlon Brando from the Godfather. Because we are the godfathers.” Drew scoffed.
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, mate. You are way off.”
I groaned to Drew. “Fuck’s sake, are we going to have to explain this all night?”
“No, Murray’s just a dickhead.” He slapped him on the face. “Aren’t you?”
He knocked Drew’s hand away. “Whatever. Anyway, where are the girls?”
“They’re on the way. Ralphie just went to pick them up.”
We walked with him in the direction he’d been headed, into the kitchen, where we found everyone else – Freddie, Wolf, Jas and Coop, as well as Tate, Jasper’s brother - already a few drinks in. All of them turned to stare as they tried to figure out what we were wearing. To be fair to them, we were usually in something more obvious. Like the year we’d dressed as giant pumpkins.
“Yes, Brando.” Tate greeted us both with a hug. “That’s fucking funny.”
“Thank you.” The look I shot toward Murray was a new level of smug, then I refocused, properly taking in what Tate had on. He was wearing a Rangers shirt, pads and a helmet along with a pair of skates hanging around his neck. “Who are you?”
“Jas.”
Drew roared with laughter until tears poured, setting off nearly everyone else in the kitchen, except Jasper, who was rolling his eyes across the kitchen.
“Yeah, ‘cause the only way he’s picking up a girl tonight is if he pretends he’s me.”
He doubled over, letting out a groan as Wolfie elbowed him in the ribs, then pulled her in for kiss making her squeal with laughter. “C’mon, Cub, you know he’s not going to get a girl by being himself.”
Tate responded by flipping him the bird.
“Where’s Samson?” Drew asked Freddie as he kissed her cheek.
“In bed. He just went down.”
“And where are all the parentals? I’ve been mentally preparing for the nipple chat again.”
Jasper slapped him around the head. “We sent them out for dinner.”
