[His fingers curl up to the underside of her forearm to brush back. If there's any lingering pain he's outright ignoring it tonight, or drinking it away. If she doesn't mind a tug on her arm, he'll give it. He intends it for the seat next to him, a cushy sort of bench seat, but anywhere'll do.] Good liquor will always put me in a good mood, second to none but the company of a pretty woman.
How's your evening? [Not "how are you" because remembers.]