I suppose not. “Well, get him up and get him upstairs.”
Henry hoists Mick to his feet and Mick stumbles across the room toward the elevator.
“Careful, big guy,” Henry says.
Mick sings softly to himself as we go up the elevator. There are more dirty limericks and more innuendo, and I catch Henry laughing into his fist.
“I can’t believe you let him get like this,” I say, scolding Henry.
“I can’t help it if the boy can’t hold his liquor,” Henry says. Then he grunts as Mick falls over into his shoulder. He shoves him to stand him back up straight.
“Why were you even drinking with him?” I ask. “That’s the part I don’t understand.”
“We were talking about life and love and my Nan…” Henry’s voice goes quiet.
“And that involved liquor.”
Henry grins at me. “All the best stories do.”
“Well, I hope you’re happy with yourself. If he pukes on my floor, I’m going to make you clean it up.”
“He won’t puke,” Henry says.
We walk to my door and I open it.
“Oh, look at the time,” Henry says. “I have to get back downstairs.”
“Payback’s a bitch, Henry,” I mutter as he hastily retreats.
“You’re not a bitch,” Mick says. He belches into his closed fist. “You’re awesome and cool and you’re my BFF.” He reaches for the belt of my robe and I yelp as he undoes it. His eyes roam down my body, his voice husky. “And you’re hot in those little shorts.” He closes the robe back up and ties the sash. “Got to put the hot stuff away. Dangerous when you’re BFF-ing. Seriously danger to FFBs. Like, might put the moves on you dangerous. Can’t be doing that with the BFF.” He points to the couch. “Can I lie down?” He weaves a little.
“Go to my room. You can sleep in there.” I don’t have sheets on the beds in any of the other rooms.
“Do your sheets smell like you?” he asks as he walks into the room.
“I don’t know. How do I smell?”
“Like clean skin and sexy woman.” He reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head, and then shoves his jeans down to his shins. Then he falls back on the bed wearing nothing but his boxers, with his pants around his ankles, his shoes still on.
“Oh, good grief,” I say as I squat down and pull off his shoes. Then I pull his jeans off. “Up.” I tap his legs. He lifts them and slides beneath my covers.
He grins at me. “I see why you like Henry so much,” he says.
“And why is that?” I ask as I settle the covers over him.
“He’s a cool guy. And he loves you.”
My heart goes soft. “I love him too.” Even though he’s currently meddling in my life. I set a wastebasket next to the bed, just in case Mick gets sick. Then I turn to walk from the room.
“Where are you going?” Mick asks, his words slurry and undefined.
“To the couch.”
He shakes his head, but this causes him to groan and he clutches his forehead. “Don’t sleep on the couch. I promise I’ll behave. Come sleep with me. Please.”
“I’ll be fine on the couch.”
“Fine, I’ll get up,” he says. He starts to sit up.