Forty-Something

1988

"Shh!" I try not to laugh at Izzy as he nearly trips coming around the corner, bracing himself against the wall as I'm tucked under his arm to help him keep his balance.

"When the hell did this get here?" He asks in reference to the wall, fumbling for his key when we get to his room.

"You gotta slow down some, Izzy." I tell him softly as he struggles to get the door open but he eventually does.

"I know, I know, I hear Axl bitch at me about it constantly, trust me I know." He rolls his eyes, careful not to drop his cigarette as he reaches for a lighter.

He can't steady his thumb enough to light it, though, and I sigh and snatch the lighter from him, lighting the cigarette before he can complain.

"Thanks." He falls back on the bed, chuckling a little as I stand at the foot of the bed, my arms crossed. "Don't take this the wrong way but you look hot even when you're knocked up."

"And you're high." I roll my eyes. "And drunk." I add. "And I'm leaving you to it because I'm tired."

I go to leave but he sits up.

"You can crash here." He offers and I raise my brows.

"Izzy, if this is a part of some grand scheme to be the next in line to have sex with me--"

"--You're pregnant. I don't fuck pregnant chicks." He wrinkles his nose, laying back down.

"Gee, thanks." I mumble, crawling onto the bed and laying on my back beside him.

In a moment of quiet I glance over at him smiling smugly.

"What?" He questions, taking notice.

"You love me so much you don't even know how to handle it." I tell him.

"Like hell I do." He denies it in a sharp scoff.

"You don't want me to leave you."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"We're friends." I say next.

"No, we're not."

"You love me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

I keep my smile for a few more moments, before I close my eyes.

I feel him scoot the tiniest bit closer to me before settling down, too.

"Psst," he says in a few minutes and I open an eye and look at him.

"What is it?"

"You wanna get married?"

I furrow my brows and turn to face him fully.

"How the hell do you go from denying we're even friends to wanting to marry me?"

"I'm high and drunk, like you said." He admits and I sigh, shaking my head a little as he clears his throat. "You and Nikki are getting divorced, you and Duff aren't together, either...everybody I know is getting hitched. I'm left out." He shrugs.

"Be thanking God." I tell him and he chuckles.

"Oh, c'mon. It wouldn't be that bad." He argues. "It would work out because Duff's in the band so he'd get to see the baby all the time so you wouldn't have to worry much with working in visiting and stuff. My mom would fucking love you, your dad already likes me...we've already seen each other naked so we know what to expect." He adds.