“Calling yourself on it shows growth, then,” I said.
“I didn’t mean Wesley, though. I wasn’t fair to you, either.” Mickey started playing with the raven springs growing out of my head, just like he used to. “Boing.” He even threw in one of those. “I messed everything up. I could have…We could have…”
“We’re not doing shoulda, woulda, couda, remember? We’re doing…now and from now on.”
“Yeah. You talk a lot.”
“You’re the one who—”
“Shh.” Mickey stopped me from talking any more by covering my grinning mouth with the hand that had been down his pants—my own—and I didn’t hate it. More jubilation came when he tugged the elastic of my boxer briefs. “Boing.”
“Nice trick, huh?” Silence on my part didn’t last long.
Mickey smiled, though. “Trick or treat, baby.”
“That was last week.”
“I want
