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Georgia put her palm to his face. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Sense,” said Heather.

Angus said, “Yeah, he does. It’s a rite of passage.”

Damon leaned his face into her hand. His eyes were wet and glistening. “Yeah, I do.”

“One in, all in,” said Jamie. “Where’s Taylor?”

“I’m not getting another tatt. I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Best time to,” said Jamie.

Heather said, “No. God, no. It’ll be something stupid you’ll all regret. Anyway, at this time of night, it’s almost morning, there won’t be anywhere open.”

“I know a twenty-four hour place,” said Taylor.

“‘Course you do,” said Jamie.

“Give me the number. I’ll call a cab,” said Sam.

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” said Heather.

Georgia gave Damon a last kiss. She didn’t care about having an audience, they’d almost seen a lot worse. “I’m not getting one either.” She climbed off his lap and gave him a hand up.

Despite her hand he stumbled. “Whoa. Who moved the room?”

She made a grab for him, but Angus got there first, steadying him with both hands to Damon’s shoulders. “Not on the willy then.”

Damon leaned into Angus. “Not unless you do.”

Heather’s, “No,” was a shout.

Georgia touched his forearm. “You’re really drunk. Are you sure?”

“I’ve had too much to drink, but I look worse than I am. My proprioception’s gone to the dogs. My balance is bollocksed, but I can still drive.”

She slapped his arm and they all laughed. It was only a tattoo. He could afford to get it lasered off if it was too bad.

“You try saying proprioception when you’re shit-faced,” he said.

“What the hell is that?” said Sam.

“He’s lost his sea legs,” said Angus.

“Oh that,” said Sam. “Happens to me frequently and I don’t even like sailing.”

“It’s got nothing to do with sailing,” said Jamie, then smacked his forehead, because Sam made a face. He clearly knew that, he was trading off his alcohol quip.

Damon pulled her into his side. “I’m not too drunk to dance with my girl.”

“Now he wants to dance,” said Angus. He flapped a hand on his leg, mock exasperation. He elbowed Damon. “Didn’t get enough bump and grind tonight, eh?”

“Let him dance,” said Jamie.

“Least you can do, you fuckers. I’d be a very happy boy right now if you’d all stayed outside.”

“Come dance with me, babe,” said Heather to Angus, but strategy was written across her blonde brows and Angus read it.

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