Page 90 of Heartbeat

“Will this one do?”

“Sure.” I took it from him, uncorked it, and poured it into the pot. “There. Now, we need to let it simmer.”

“For how long?”

“Forty minutes? Give or take.”

He looked at the stove and then at me. “Well…”

“What?”

“Remember when you told me you used to drink and get high all the time?” he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Is that, like, something you don’t do at all anymore? Like, did it get out of control or something like that?”

“Are you asking me if I have a drug problem or an alcohol problem?” I narrowed my eyes.

“I was just wondering—”

“Okay. Do I look like I have a drug or alcohol problem?” I asked, doing my best to look extremely serious.

“What? No! God, no. I—”

“Because, you know, if you’re going to regret anything—”

“I’m not regretting anything! I—”

As fun as it was watching him completely lose his cool, I couldn’t keep it up. I had to end his misery before he hyperventilated.

“It’s fine, I’m just fucking with you.” I laughed.

“No, seriously, Tom.” He shook his head, so very worried. “I wasn’t—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” I calmly told him.

I didn’t know why I said that. I’d never called anyone “baby” in my entire life; I had no idea where it came from.

“Yeah?” he asked, so nervous and elated all at the same time.

“Yes, I was only having a laugh. Why were you asking?”

“I just thought…since we have forty minutes to wait, we could maybe—”

“Get high?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sure,” I said casually. “I mean, if it were me, I would’ve thought of something sexual…but drugs are fine too.” I shrugged.

“Shit, no. What I was—”

I smiled. “Baby. Breathe.”

*

“What do you believe in?” Ethan asked, handing me the blunt.

---