“You’re joking?”
He finished and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “You really think I’d go reading your texts? Wow, Perry, I’ve got to say…that hurts. That hurts big time”
I could see it didn’t actually hurt and he knew exactly why it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had read my texts.
“Whatever, give me that.” I swiped the bottle from him and took another shot. This time it burned away the annoyance that was furrowed up on my forehead.
“That a girl. Though I must say, I’m incredibly curious as to see what texts you might be getting. Are you talking about me? Nice things I hope. You can get pretty mean.”
“Shut up.” I waved at him. “Just play some music from your phone.”
“Done and done.” He brought it out from his front coat pocket and laid it on the table. He made quick work of it, flicking through the screens until Queens of the Stone Age came on. It was energizing enough to go along with the increasing drunkenness I was feeling, but not eerie enough to make me feel more afraid. Not that I actually was afraid now that I was pleasantly drunk. Dex was right; it was curing what ailed me.
We talked about music for the next little bit, a usual topic between the two of us since we had very similar music tastes, until the booze made me sway a little. With his handsome face expertly lit in half glow, half shadow, I became more aware of how much, uh, looser I was feeling. The warmth was everywhere now and I leaned further across the table at every word he said. I felt like some stupid adoring fan but there was no way around it. I felt playful. I felt frisky. This was bad, bad news.
It wasn’t just me though. He had a bit more swagger in his movements. Plus he was giving me the eyes (it at least looked that way) and acting more flirty than usual.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Or maybe it was the best idea ever. I wanted to find out, something sober Perry would never dare do.
“Let’s play a game,” I said after we discussed who was the better drummer, Dave Lombardo or Neil Peart.
He raised his brow and his bottom lip twitched. He was intrigued. “OK…what kind of game? Strip poker?”
Again, I couldn’t tell if he was taking the piss or not but I acted like he wasn’t. “Do you have cards?”
“No…”
“How about ‘I Have Never?’ “
It was the good old drinking game where you take a sip if “never” is a lie. I was a champion in college. Mainly because the game got sexual really fast and then I never got drunk accordingly. It was a great way to get to know people better though.
“Now you’re trying to get me drunk…” he mused with a smile.
“You’re already drunk.”
“So are you.”
“Then this should be interesting.”
He pursed his lips and thought things over. Then he said, “We’ll see what you’ve got. I’m going first. I have never…shoplifted.”
He didn’t drink. But I did. God, it burned.
“Perry! I am appalled!” he said, slamming his fist down on the table in mock fury.
I wasn’t proud of it, but I told him I had shoplifted numerous times in high school. Makeup from the local drug store, actually. Not cuz I needed it or couldn’t afford it but because of the thrill. I guess, anyway. Young Perry did a lot of stupid things.
It was my turn. I racked my brain for things I could get out of Dex.
“I have never…been arrested,” I said.
He didn’t drink. That surprised me. Yet, I had been arrested, so I had to. I took another timid swig.
His jaw literally dropped open. “What the f**k? What for?”
“For the shoplifting! I got caught one time. They arrested me, called my parents…anyway.”
“What? Don’t ‘anyway’ me. That’s huge. Even I haven’t been arrested.”
“I know! That’s why I’m surprised.” I pointed at him.
“Wow, I have got to step up my game. You are out…bad–assing me right now.”
I gotta admit I was loving the look of astonishment in his eyes. It felt pretty freaking good. “Your turn,” I said.
He thought about it for a moment. I caught a wicked glint in his eye before he said, “Fine. I’ve never had a threesome.”
Wow. And he was just jumping straight to the point. Of course I never had a threesome before. I’ve barely had twosomes. He probably did though. He was just looking for an excuse to show off.
But he didn’t drink either.
“Huh,” I said. “Did you think I’d actually drink?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t think you were a shoplifting criminal either.”
“Oh, whatever. OK, I’ve never kissed a guy.” I couldn’t help but smile as I drank to that one. I watched Dex carefully. I could see the workings of his mind behind his heavy, drunk eyes. Finally he drank.
“Are you serious?” I asked incredulously.
He shrugged. “Does kissing your bandmate on stage count? He was a guy. And for the record, I didn’t like it. Much.”
I shook my head. “No. It doesn’t count.”
“Ah, rats then. OK, I’ve never had sex in public.”
And he drank to that right away, naturally. I didn’t though. No explanation needed.
Still, I had to ask him, “Where?”
“Where haven’t I?”
“OK, that’s enough,” I said quickly, not wanting to get the mental image of Jenn and him in the sweaty throws of passion in a public restroom somewhere. “I have never….told someone I loved them when I knew I didn’t.”
It was a fairly heavy question considering the brevity of the scene. I wasn’t sure why I asked it but I did.
There was a pause. Then he reached for the bottle and took a small swig, wincing.
He cleared his throat and said, “Well, that was certainly, uh, poignant. I’ll bring it back around again. I’ve never been skinny dipping.”
We both didn’t drink.
“Interesting. Too bad the water is freezing here,” he said with a wink.
“Ha. All righty. Next one I hope we don’t both suck at. Let’s see… I’ve never been cheated on.”
And I said it before I even realized what I said. This question is normally standard, I mean it’s a common occurrence these days, sadly. It’s just that in Red Fox, Dex’s old college friend Maximus had brought up the fact that Dex’s ex–girlfriend, Abby, had been cheating on him. He found out. They fought. And she died later that night from driving drunk. In Maximus’s opinion, Dex had a hell of a time trying to recover from it. He still didn’t know if he had.