Dakota huffed and sighed dramatically. “Ihave somehow become quite…there’s a word…not drunk, a bigger word…somethingthat sounds foreign…what word do I mean?”
This was even better than a horny drunkDakota. “Um, inebriated?”
“Yes, that’s a good word. Better thandrunk. Drunk sounds like we’re college frat boys instead of real adults who’vetaken in…consumed…no, there’s a better word…what’s a better word for drunk—thedrinking kind of drunk, not the other kind…it sounds weird too…”
I was never going to let him forget thisphone call.
What word meant consumed but would soundforeign to a writer who was completely wasted? “Imbibed?”
“That sounds much better…oh…but is itimoremor something else…oh, what aboutin…how do you spell that?”The best part was that he was so serious and reasonably articulate for howdrunk he seemed to be.
Since I wasn’t going to get into a spellingdiscussion with a drunk man…especially with words I didn’t use very often, Ichanged the subject. “I thought you weren’t planning on drinking that much.”
That was what he’d said, anyway.
“I wasn’t.” He sighed again and it was sofunny I had to hold back my laughter. “They were driving me crazy, though.”
And that meant more alcohol than normal wasrequired?
“Why were they driving you crazy?” I had noidea what to expect at that point.
“It’s constant questions…Does he have a bigpenis? Why haven’t you dated? Do you love him? One thing after another. It tookseveral shots to get through.” He said it like he was tired of giving me hisgrocery list.
“What did you tell them?” I meant the lovequestion, but he took it slightly differently.
“Why would I tell them about your peniswhen I haven’t seen it yet?” He sounded offended.
It was delightful.
“Do they know you haven’t seen it yet?” I’dbeen hoping that absence would make the heart grow fonder, but it didn’t seemto work that way with dicks.
“Of course not.” Yep, he thought I was anidiot. “Then I’d have to answer a thousand more questions.”
“That makes sense.” I was trying to beserious, but he huffed again.
“You think I’m stupid too.” He made a sadsound. “Austin said I was stupid when I told him the floor wasn’t moving andthat he was just drunk.”
Was I supposed to apologize for that?
“I know how smart you are. Remember I workfor you?” He hadn’t forgotten that, had he?
His voice immediately perked up. “Oh,that’s right.”
Yep, that hadn’t occurred to him at all.
“I think—” Whatever he was going to say waslost as he gave a squeal and something crashed.
I was pretty sure it was Dakota that hadcrashed.
Standing up, I froze. “Dakota? Are youokay?”
There were several seconds of quiet thatfelt like an eternity. “I don’t know.”
Well, at least he was breathing andconscious. “What happened?”
“I seem to be stuck.” Then he startedrambling again. “There has to be a better word. One that doesn’t sound like I’ma kid who got their head stuck in the railing.”
I had a feeling there was a story behindthat strange answer.
