Page 100 of For Real

Well. Never let it be said Toby Finch wasn’t willing to try. “Uh, maybe, but I don’t know how.”

He does, and I get a snuff-for-beginners talk before he dabs some into the hollow between his thumb and forefinger and offers his hand to me.

What in Rome, right? I lean over and sniff. I’m a bit tentative—and you’re definitely not supposed to snort it—but the stuff goes up my nose, so I guess I don’t mess it up. It’s a pale flash in the front of your brain, like just the right amount of wasabi.

I get a little round of applause for my bravery, which is cool.

Except Laurie doesn’t seem happy at all. His eyes are so cold and stormy he sort of doesn’t look like my Laurie anymore. He looks like he did when I first saw him, remote and wild and totally out of my league.

Maybe I shouldn’t have taken snuff. He’s a doctor; he probably feels strongly about addictive substances. But it’s not like one pinch is going to turn me into a snuffhead.

Eventually we’re allowed to stop drinking and start mingling again. Harris gives me his business card from a silver box of them and says I should call him if I ever find myself in Chicago or if I fancy giving the law another shot. He tells me he thinks I’d be a good lawyer, which is nice, but fuck no.

Then Laurie grabs me by the shoulder and spins me round.

“Laurie, what are—”

“Outside. I need to talk to you outside.”

He doesn’t actually give me any choice about it, just drags me out of the room and into the silence of the cloisters.

I can hear him breathing, harsh like when we’re fucking. “What the hell, Toby? Just what the hell?”

I think…I’m almost scared of him. And that’s a weird feeling. Also, he’s seriously riled up about nicotine. “You mean, the snuff?”

“I mean all of it.”

“I only took a bit.”

“Not the fucking snuff…the…the…”

I blink at him. “The what?”

“Do you have some kind of…queer Electra complex? Older man fetish? Unresolved daddy issues? What?”

My mouth kind of drops open. I can’t decide if I’m angry or hurt. Well, I’m both. But I can’t decide which is bigger. “Jesus, Laurie. That’s not okay.”

“And flirting with half my fucking college is?”

“I wasn’t—”

I don’t get a chance to finish because he shoves me up against the wall and pins me there and presses his mouth to mine. Fuck, he’s strong. And anger is coming off him like heat, and his kiss is sort of mean and frantic and tastes of sweet, heavy things.

Talk about mixed messages. Except. Wait. No. Oh my God.

I can’t really get away from him—not sure I want to, anyway—but I pull my head to the side, which makes it hard for him to keep kissing me. “Laurie, are you jealous?”

The silence gathers itself again, and the pressure of his body against mine sort of eases off a bit. “Fuck.” One word, but he sounds so defeated.

“It’s okay.” I lift a leg and hook it round him, dragging him in, hoping he’ll get the message and start aggressively molesting me again. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous, and it’s totally baseless because I’m all yours, but it’s so hot you are.”

“It’s not hot, Toby, it’s fucking adolescent. God, what’s wrong with me?”

“What’s wrong with you is you like me, and you don’t like the idea of anyone else having me.”

His touch is gentle as he pushes the hair out of my eyes. “You were enchanting. No wonder they all want you.”

Maybe it’s messed up, but I’m so fucking proud right now that my heart is spinning round the top of some spire somewhere. I think he’s exaggerating in the madness of being jealous and not knowing how to deal with it, and obviously I genuinely don’t want to upset him, but I like how much he wants me. How much he can’t deny it right now.

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