"He's dropping his elbow."
"I know."
"Someone should tell him."
"I've told him three times."
"Tell him four."
I look at him. "You tell him."
"He listens to you."
"He listens, he just doesn't actually hear it."
Kowalski considers this. Nods once like I've said something profound. We pass the liquor store on the corner and I get an idea, so I tell him to pull over, and he does without asking why because Kowalski trusts my decisions in a way that is both flattering and slightly concerning.
We sit in the parking lot for a hot second.
"Three bottles?" I ask, very seriously.
He looks at the store. Looks back at me.
"Four," he says, even more serious.
I almost smile.
We show up with five bottles of tequila.
The cheer that goes up when we walk through the door is immediate and loud and exactly what I needed. Cooper's place is already packed. Music too loud, air humid and close from all the bodies pressed together, smoke lingering in a thin veil, red cups everywhere. Half the team is here, the other half arriving in pieces.
Tonight I'm just here to enjoy myself. For the team. I drop the bottles in the kitchen and climb up onto the nearest table.
"Attention." I tap a bottle against my palm. The room quiets. "This is your former captain speaking." I let the grin come. Don't fight it. "I need one thing from everyone tonight. Get absolutely completely fucked up."
The noise that follows shakes the walls. Hi-fives. Hands clapping my back. I step down and start lining up shots and it feels — good. Genuinely good. Easy in a way I forgot things could feel.
Bennett appears at my elbow immediately. "Nash. You came again,” he says, hope twinkling in his eyes.
"I came." I deadpan.
"You never come."
"I'm here, aren't I?" I give him a small smile.
He looks at me like I've done something remarkable. Then he takes the shot I hand him and wanders off looking pleased with himself. Cooper materializes from somewhere. "Captain. Former captain. Whatever. You brought tequila,” he says, hugging the bottles.
"Yep, I brought tequila." I repeat.
"You're my favorite person on this team."
"You say that to everyone."
"I mean it to you, especially right now." He takes two shots, hands one to someone attractive passing by, and disappears back into the crowd with a wink. Kowalski comes to stand beside me. Doesn't take a shot. Just surveys the room the way he surveys everything — intently, with all his focus.
"Good call," he says.
"Which part?"
