Page 141 of Defend Me

“Is he?”

“Are you actually worried about that?”

“Not really. Just passing insecurities, mostly. It’s worse when I’m not with him because I can’t see that look in his eyes.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyone with eyes can see he’s gone for you.”

“So, he thinks I’m hot,” I noted with a smile.

“He has poor taste.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re a mess,” he laughed.

“Don’t project. I’m hella chill.”

“Yeah, right. You’ve been halfway in love with him since your first kiss.”

I smiled as I brought the joint to my mouth. “I’m weak and he’s beautiful. Shoot me.”

“Who are we shooting?” a voice asked from the door.

We both turned in what felt like slow motion. Brooks was leaning against the frame with his arms and ankles crossed. Behind him, the apartment was dark, which cast him in an ethereal glow from the lamp on the nightstand.

“Fuck, you’re an angel aren’t you,” I said, which made him immediately laugh. I loved the way he smiled when it was real.

Dean squinted his eyes. “Shit. Did you say that really slowly or is my brain lagging?”

Brooks looked at me. “What’s up with Toast Malone over here?”

I held up the nearly burned out joint. He strode into the room and plucked it from my fingers.

“This isn’t allowed here.” There was a lingering smirk on his face as he held the tiny thing with two fingers and brought it to his lips.

“Good thing I’m a rebel.”

I rose up on my knees and pulled him down by the back of his neck before he could blow out the smoke. With my lips pressed lightly to his, I inhaled it, then kissed him until my lungs were on fire.

I pulled back and exhaled before I coughed a couple of times. “Shit. I’m tapping out.”

Brooks raised a brow. “I’m appalled to hear that from you. How much did you guys smoke?”

“Two of those,” I said. “They’re a gram each and, like, twenty-eight percent.”

Shaking his head, Brooks laughed. “And you say you smoke for anxiety.”

“I do. Mostly. We just finished midterms, so fuck being in the land of the living right now.”

“Based.”

Dean tapped my arm with the back of his hand. “What if we ate?”

“This is why I don’t hang out with stoners.”

“You are one.”

“Not like you.”

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