Opening my eyes, a breath escapes me as I stare at her.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
“I’m going to give you a shottie,” I say hoarsely.
She gives me a lopsided grin and that’s all it takes for me to question how the fuck I’m ever going to leave her.
“A what?”
Swallowing, I reply, “I hit it and then I blow it into your mouth.”
If there was ever a time to reach into my pocket and grab my phone to snap a photo, it’s right now. The look on her face is one I never want to forget. It’s the look I’ll want to see when my body feels like giving up. The look I’ll remember when I’m on the other side of the world, wondering why the fuck I ever left her. It’s the look I’ll recall when the enemy is standing in front of me and I have no choice but to fight.
“You’re going to blow the smoke into my mouth?”
I nod.
“Yo, Eric, if you ain’t smoking that shit, pass it,” Danny calls. Her eyes drift over my shoulder at the sound of his voice.
“What do you say?” I prod.
She looks back at me and a grin spreads across her face.
“Blow me.”
Somehow, I manage to laugh, but really, I want to fucking kiss the shit out of her. I bring the blunt to my lips and hit it hard, filling my cheeks with smoke. She watches my mouth intently, and it takes every ounce of control to hold the smoke in my mouth. When I finally lower the blunt and with my free hand, I urge her to come closer. She leans in, but it’s not close enough for the smoke to travel from my mouth to hers. Despite the warning bells sounding in my head, I slide my fingers into her hair and cup the back of her head, pulling her closer until her lips are two inches away from mine.
It’s a good thing my mouth is full, or it would be on hers, ravaging every crevice, and that ain’t something I want to do with an audience. Nah, the first time my lips touch hers, I want us to be alone so I can commit every stroke of her tongue and every moan to memory. I drag my eyes away from her lips and meet her gaze. With my hand still cradling the back of her head, I slowly exhale.
“Take it! Take it! Take it!” Everyone around us starts to chant.
Her lips part and she inhales deeply, the smoke passes from my mouth to hers and it’s hot as fuck. I lean closer, my mouth a centimeter from hers. It would take nothing to kiss her. To taste her. Unfortunately, she starts to cough uncontrollably, and that sobers me up. I quickly hand the joint back to Danny and untangle my fingers from her hair. Patting her on the back, I bend my head and touch my forehead to hers.
“You inhaled too much too quick,” I explain, stroking her back as she continues to cough. Danny grabs another beer and pops the top off. The coughing eases up and he hands it to her. Without a word, she takes the beer and gulps it. When she finally brings it away from her lips, she looks at me.
“My throat is on fire.”
Her throat.
My pants.
Same shit.
I lift her from my lap and stand. Taking her hands, I pull her to her feet, and she stumbles, falling against my chest.
Shit.
“You okay?”
“I’m a little lightheaded,” she admits, straightening up. “Are you going to dance with me?”
I laugh.
“Not what I had in mind, no,” I say, brushing the hair away from my face. “I thought we’d go for a walk.”
But seeing as she can barely stand straight, I’m thinking that’s off the table.
“Is that code for Brooklyn you’re a mess and need to sober up?”