Page 49 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

“A veteran?” he chortles. “Are you planning on smoking in your house? Your parents are going to smell it.” He’s not being condescending, simply stating the obvious.

“Kai told us where he goes to smoke when my parents are home.” He plants his gaze back on the joint in his hands, and I lose him to his thoughts for a minute. Silence with Riggs as company, when he’s being nice, isn’t so bad. He smells good, and even though I’m positive there isn’t any flavored tobacco mixed in, I can still sort of get a whiff of candied grapes on him now that I’m close enough. There’s a hint of detergent in there, but I catch nothing overpowering like cologne. He seems more of the natural kind and I have to say, I kind of like it.

“I won’t let anything happen to you if you want to smoke now.” I frown at the sincerity with which he says that.

“Why would you think I believe you would let something happen to me?” Not that I trusted him, but after he went to bat so hard for Sam, I doubted hewouldlet anything happen to me.

He jerks his head up, and I wait for his grumpiness to start. I didn’t accuse him of anything, but it could’ve come off like that. “Nothing,” he checks himself. “It’s just that sometimes people can get paranoid, and it doesn’t always go well.” He’s holding something back, but I don’t get it out of him.

“Oh.” Not like I haven’t learned that. I’ve done plenty of research on the side effects. Paranoia is one of the big ones. “Right.”

“The first time I smoked was with a complete stranger. It made my first trip better. It didn’t worry me that I would have to face judgment from my friends if it went bad or a party full of people who’d rather see me fall.”

“A stranger? We’re hardly strangers.”

“Aren’t we, though? We barely know one another.” The look I give him is blank. We may not be friends, but we are far from strangers. He already knows my dirtiest secret. But something in me sees he won’t judge me if this goes bad. That what he’s saying is the truth.

“You’ve done nothing but judge me. Why would I expect you not to film me if it goes bad?” I argue, this time adding a hint of accusation. He doesn’t flinch, instead tilts his head as he agrees slowly.

“You’re right, you don’t know I wouldn’t do that other than I am telling you now that I wouldn’t. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been mean to you because you bullied someone I care for. I’m not a spiteful person, I just stick up for things I believe in, and I most certainly don’t do things to hurt other people.” His words sting, a blow that will forever remind me of what I did, so I never make it back to that person. He didn’t say them to be vindictive, just stating facts.

“And why the change of heart now?”

He swallows, flicking the ash from the end of his joint. The cherry simmers, illuminating the darkness surrounding his face and adding an intimidating glow that accentuates his gorgeous features. His darkness burns even brighter in the wells of the shadows.

“Would it be too clichè if I said people can change?”

“Yeah, it would,” I say softly, prying my eyes from his. If I’m not careful, those icy eyes will trap me. A trap I’m sure I’d love but will never make it out of. I don’t need another relationship of illusion with a beautiful guy. I need something real, like I have with Brett. Sweet Brett. He’s hot in his own right, but Foxy hit the nail on the head when she said he isn’t as hot as Riggs. Brett has more of the boy next door features, sexy and strong. He is the football player, while Riggs is the ruggedly handsome, striking hockey player. Rough around the edges, but a damn diamond, nonetheless.

“Well, good, because I’m beginning to see people can change,” he concludes. I wait for him to explain himself, but he doesn’t indulge me.

“Does that include you?”

“What makes you think I need to change?”

“You don’t need to, but you want to. Guilt recognizes guilt, darkness draws darkness, Riggs. I have no knowledge of your past, but I can sense that much. It’s easy to see it in you.” I’m not sure why I’m going so deep into this. Maybe because I just want him to see the light in things, to realize I’m not the only one that can change.

Granted, his change is for different reasons, he’s not a vindictive person, just guilt ridden. But a change would do him good. He can’t go on carrying that weight forever.

Riggs shoves the joint in front of me, only his arm outstretched, so he doesn’t get too close. “Pull it into your mouth first, otherwise you’ll burn your throat. Then pull it into your lungs and hold it for a few seconds. Let it out when you’re ready.”

I look at him, then the joint, then back to him. He’s serious. He wants me to smoke right now. Apprehension flips my belly.

“Live a little, Charlotte.”Live a little?“You can trust me.”

“Famous last words,” I mutter. I inhale a shaky breath of cold, calming air. The smell of fall approaching is crisp, delicious. The rustle of leaves in the trees surrounding us is music to my ears. Fall means cool weather is approaching and skating on icy ponds in the great outdoors during our trips up north will be here soon. My time of the year, the time I flourish. My mom always jokes that my birth mother must have been from the Arctic because she can never get my brother or me to come into the house when winter is in town.

What’s one hit? If it takes a turn, I’ll call Foxy, have her turn back around and get me. She can’t be that far from us, right? I huff out nervously and take the joint from his fingers. By now, it’s short and about to burn me.

I make it quick, pulling smoke into my mouth and holding it there like he instructed. I let the smoke flow down my throat slowly and feel a tiny prickle of a burn as it enters my lungs. The urge to cough, to expel it from my body, hits me hard, but I suppress it. Nothing like a rookie to cough, eh? I don’t need to give Riggs any fuel to say anything about me.

Riggs gives me a brief nod, as if I were expecting his instruction. I let the thick, acrid smoke seep from between my lips. It doesn’t taste as good on the way out as it does going in. It mingles with the surrounding air, then rises until it disappears into the night sky.

I shiver from the cold, my teeth chattering, and well, not just from the cold but a bit of nerves. Like I said, I’ve researched what to expect, but I guess you can’t ever know until you try. I’m not freaking out or anything, but I’m not calm. For a multitude of reasons. One may or may not include the incredibly handsome, and seemingly sensible, guy sitting next to me. Plus, I gave in and smoked pot for my first time on campus with no one I know or am comfortable around.

Fucking peer pressure is a bitch sometimes.

Riggs peers over at me, studying every inch of me. I let him. Not because I lost my inhibitions, but because I want him to look at me. To see the real me as I’ve always wanted. We’re both here, our guards somewhat down. I can’t say we’re vulnerable. Though there is a factor of vulnerability I’ve just placed in his hands, we are indeed putting our differences aside and letting our true selves show. At least I am. He might be as well.

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