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picturing on his face curving over his words.
              It’s weird how this is the first time I’ve ever been on the phone with Deo, but we have an easy back and forth like we’ve been chumming around for years. “You’re obviously drunk, and I have class in the morning, so I’m going to let you go.”
              “Okay, what time should I pick you up, then?” He doesn’t try to hide the excitement in his voice. I kind of love that.
              “You don’t give up, do you?”
              “One o’clock it is!”
              This time, when I answer him, I’m pretty sure he can hear my smile over the phone.

 

 
    -Five-
              Deo
     
    “You called her?” Cohen’s voice sways and slides through the dark as he navigates pissing off the side of my grandpa’s deck. Grandpa is passed out on the couch, snoring so loud I can barely hear my friend’s question.
    “Yup. Wooed her with my many charms.” I pop the dilapidated lawn chair on its back two legs and balance my feet on the deck railing, letting the sweet buzz of too much beer mix with the memory of Whit’s dark eyes and hot, sexy kisses.
    I hear the up-pull of Cohen’s zipper. “What charms are those again?” He throws his body down in a sagging lawn chair recliner.
    “Bad-ass charms, hot-as-hell charms, got-balls-of-fucking-steel charms. The usual charms that tempt the ladies. You may want to learn from my example.” I let the chair thump onto all four legs and throw a red plastic cup at him.
    It hits him on the side of the head, and he groans. “You’re gonna be so damn hungover tomorrow, that poor girl’s gonna be stuck holding your hair back while you puke.” He burps and groans.
    “You just can’t handle your cups, my friend.” He and I polished off a bottle of Sambuka in seventh grade and he puked on Kylee Chase’s shoes the next day when we met up with her in the park. Since then, he always has to be a tough-nut about how much he drinks, even though he can’t take it. “I have a genetically gifted liver.”
    “No fucking joke. Your grandpa drank three times more than both of us, and that old fuck could have ridden a damn unicycle through an obstacle course.” He burps again, and I wish he’d just go throw up and put himself out of his misery, but he’s got pride about drinking.
    “Like I said, I’m blessed with amazing genes. Which is why Whit was all over seeing me again.” Okay, maybe that’s a little bit of lie. Or a big ass lie. Maybe it was more like me forcing her to come out and hoping she actually shows up.
    “So what’s the deal with this girl?” Cohen throws one leg off the recliner, so I know the stars are spinning like mad for him.
    I rub a hand over my scruff. I need to shave pre-date. “I really don’t know. She’s hot as hell, but she’s kind of got a stick up her ass.”
    Cohen turns his head and looks at me through one painfully squinted eye. “Stick up her ass? That’s so not your type. Are you losing your beach-bunny appetite? Going for responsible girls now? Are you sure you met this chick at a tattoo shop and not the bank or the DMV?”
    “Fuck off,” I chuckle. “She may have had a stick up her ass, but she was definitely running to a booty call. And she’s all neat and proper, but sexy as hell. She has a tattoo behind her ear.”
    “Behind her ear?” Cohen drums his fingers over his stomach. “That’s kind of rebel hot.”
    “She’s all kinds of contradictions.” I roll my shoulders out. “And I gotta get to sleep so I have the energy I need for this date, if you catch me.”
    “Cool. I’ll just chill out here for a while.” His voice calls to me before I’m in the house. “And happy birthday, old man!”
    “Don’t fall asleep out here. The mosquitoes will suck you fucking dry!” I close the sliding door, but not before I hear Cohen sneak to the side of the deck and heave.