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“She’s eye-fucking you, man,” Kavanaugh said, shoving his shoulder into mine. I downed my shot and turned discreetly to face the woman at the end of the bar. She was talking to the bartender.
“She’s not even looking this way,” I said, barely suppressing a huff of laughter. “And she’s got blue hair.”
“Partially blue hair. It’s a style.”
“It’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen.”
“Maybe she’s going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe her hair is a statement of the feelings she’s burying deep inside.”
“Maybe she’s a fucking psycho and when I wake up in the morning, I’ll be missing my wallet.”
“Wow, you have a very low opinion of your fellow American.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did we notjustkill four men this afternoon?”
“Well…right, but they were bad Americans. She’s clearly a patriotic American. You would feel differently if she had white and red in her hair, also.”
“Actually, I think I would stay firmly away from that.”
“Come on!” he grinned. “What’s not to love about that? She’s feisty and fun, but she’s also got that sexy side. Have you seen those legs? What I wouldn’t give to have those wrapped around my waist for a few hours.”
“Then you go get all the venereal diseases you want.” I took a drink and slammed my glass on the bar.
“I already have my eye on someone. Besides, a chick like that doesn’t have venereal diseases. There’s not a single tattoo on her body.”
“That you can see. And since when do tattoos signify whether or not a person has diseases?”
“Well…okay, they don’t. I’m just saying, she’s a good girl that’s taking a walk on the wild side. And you’re the wild side, man!”
I slowly turned and looked at him. “Since when am I the wild side?”
He stuttered, trying to find some way to prove me wrong. We both knew he couldn’t do it. I wasn’t as strait-laced as Lock, but I definitely didn’t fuck everything in sight like Kavanaugh.
“You shoot people.”
“Bad people. It’s not like I walk down the street and take out anyone that looks at me the wrong way.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You have an unhealthy obsession with practical jokes.”
I widened my eyes comically at him. “You’re right. Man, I’m a bad boy.”
“Man, you need this. Go talk to her. It’s been like…four years since you got laid.”
I rolled my eyes at his exaggeration. “Four months. That’s not the same thing at all.”
“Months, years…does it really matter? It’s way too fucking long.”
Red slouched on the stool beside me, raising his empty beer glass to the bartender. “What’s way too fucking long?”
“Kavanaugh thinks four months is somehow going to kill me.”
“Going without sex?” he asked. He shrugged, taking the glass the bartender slid across the bar. “It’s too long, but it won’t kill you. See anyone you like?”
Kavanaugh spoke up before I could get the chance. “The woman at the end of the bar is eye-fucking him.”
Red glanced down there, then turned back to us. “She’s not even paying attention.”
“Thank you!” I practically shouted. “My sex life is not up for debate or in need of a change.”
