Page 47 of Come Take Me Now

“Not game?” I ask. She didn’t have to be. I wouldn’t pressure her, but I could use some of the weight off my shoulders tonight.

“I never could because of track,” she answers. I shrug and put the bag back in the tin. I could smoke later after she’s passed out. After the wine she had with dinner, I don’t expect her to go home tonight. “No, I want to try it.”

I stare into her eyes. “You sure?”

She nods. “Yeah. What else is summer for?”

“Alright. Come on, then.” I nod toward the back door. The sun is setting, and I light the half-burned citronella candle on the outdoor coffee table to ward off any mosquitoes. We settle on the patio’s couch, and I use the same lighter to ignite the end of the joint. I bring it to my lips and take a long drag from it, holding the smoke in my lungs as long as I can. I finally breathe out, Tilly watching the whole thing. “Try to inhale and hold it.” I pass her the lit joint, and she’s wide-eyed as usual as she gingerly takes it from my grasp.

“I feel like I’m going to embarrass myself,” she says.

“Isn’t that the point? To numb those kinds of feelings?”

“True.” She brings it up to her pouty lips. “Ugh, okay.” She bites her lip before taking a puff, then handing it back.

“Hold it,” I instruct. “And release.”

She exhales a cloud of smoke and coughs as I take another puff. “God,” she complains and coughs again. “I’ve been around this at parties but never done it.”

The smoke escapes my lungs as I speak. “That’s a shame since it’s been legalized for years now.”

“You have to be twenty-one to buy it,” Tilly quietly adds.

Oh…shit.

“I hate to remind you how fucking old I am, but when I was in high school, I had to get creative to get this shit. You had to know someone. Now there are weed shops everywhere.” I pause, watching her puff and hold it in. “But you’ve been able to get it for a while now, if you wanted to,” I say.

She shrugs and exhales. “Track. They drug test. That was the best part of college for me.” She coughs again. “I don’t think it’s working. I don’t feel different.”

“Give it time.”

I grab a fresh one and light it, so we each have one.

“Do you do this often?” she asks.

“Pretty much weekly. Work’s been a lot, and while sex helps, this sounded too good.”

“Have you since we got together?” she whispers, shifting her gaze low.

“Yes.” She briefly scrunches up her face like she didn’t enjoy hearing that. “I’ve done it for years, and I wouldn’t have suggested it tonight if it would hurt you.”

“I know,” she breathes.

I rest my ankles on the end of the coffee table and cross them. She snuggles up to my side, and her silky hair drapes over my arm, slightly lifted by the subtle breeze. It’s a lukewarm evening—not too cold, not too hot. Just right. And it’s getting dark. A candlelit evening outside with Tilly by my side feels like the temperature—just fucking right.

She traces the patterns that decorate my skin. Her finger swirls over the grapevines on my forearm that stretch up to my shoulder and down my ribs. From the corner of my eye, her finger trails over the lines, but my body doesn’t feel it right away. My senses usually don’t cloud this quickly. Her finger follows the vine past my shoulder and grazes over the side of my neck, but I don’t wince at her icy touch.

“I can’t imagine sitting through this many tattoos. My little heart stung enough.”

I lift my head and kiss her heart tattoo on the front of her shoulder. “I love your little tat.”

“Me, too.” Tilly’s fingers graze over my ribs. “Which one hurt the most again? You told me when we went to the lake, but I can’t remember...”

“Ankles, ribs, and elbows,” I answer quickly. “I used numbing gel after I had my first ankle done to make the other easier.”

“So, you’re not as tough as you claim?”

I know she’s joking, so it doesn’t ruffle me. “Get your clit pierced five times. Then, come talk to me.” I keep my tone teasing, but most men would never sit through such sensitive piercings.