Page 50 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

Concern curves his brow downward. Concern for me?

“Are you alright? You’re trembling. Are you that nervous? Shit, Charley, I didn’t mean to pressure you like that. I’m sorry,” he rattles and I have to admit, it’s adorable. My cheeks pull into a smile, the most genuine smile that has graced my lips in a while. Riggs is concerned for me.

“All good.” I pause. “I mean, I’m a bit out of my element, but don’t worry, you didn’t put that to my lips and make me inhale. Plus, it’s cold.”

He runs his fingers through his hair again and his hood slides all the way off, opening up his face. My breath gets stuck in my chest. Whoever created people, sure did right by Riggs Sutton. He’s so damn beautiful with his harsh, angular features, the shadow of stubble on his chin, his cunning blue eyes that are so light sometimes his irises would get lost in the whites if it weren’t for the dark ring surrounding them. The tattoos on his neck bring color to his otherwise natural, monotone pallet. And despite being much smaller than Jensen, his long, lithe limbs are everywhere all at once.

“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?” He raises a brow, showing me my lack of proper attire is silly.

“Well, it was hotter earlier at the game and I wasn’t expecting to be sitting outside of the library. I had plans to make it all the way in.” I motion with my head over my shoulder toward the doors where Jensen disappeared not too long ago.

“Right, sorry. I guess I should let you get to that.”

“Nah, we squashed those plans. Cause if this high gets any… higher?” He argues with his lips over a grin at my lack of ability to create words. Thankfully, his lips win and his smile warms a part of me. He was right, it is just like the early stages of getting drunk, only better. I’m so relaxed, chilled out. My worry, and my thoughts, have dissipated. I’m content with spending the evening sitting here with Riggs in the cold. Who would’ve thought pot would be what brings us together. At least right now. Tomorrow is a new day, and I don’t know what version of him I will get when I see him next. It’s never good to count your chickens before they hatch.

It’s good right now, and that’s more than I ever expected with him.

“What were you saying?” he urges.

I crinkle my nose, arching a brow.What was I saying?

“I’m cold?” I guess because whatever I was saying has left the building.

Riggs shrugs out of his hoodie, revealing he has long sleeves on. Then, without permission, he drapes it over me and tugs it closed in the front. Innocent yet caring and not at all what I would expect him to do. “I don’t need your hoodie, I’m fine.” I start to pull it off of me, uncomfortable with him being so…nice? Or maybe it’s just that I know I will enjoy being wrapped in his scent too much, therefore I shouldn’t let it happen at all.

“Wear it, you’re cold and I’m not letting you go anywhere until I’m positive you’re okay. Plus, we have to wait for Jensen to get done so he can give you a ride home. You’re not driving.” My protest falls dead on my lips. “Now, just relax and enjoy the high. Keep talking though so I know you’re all good.”

I lay my head back, dipped in Riggs Sutton, swarmed with the scent of candied grapes and something so genuinely Riggs that it makes my heart beat heavy in my chest and butterflies flutter through my belly. If I weren’t high, I’d worry I’m getting into something I shouldn’t, but right now, I can’t be bothered.

CHAPTER22

Last night,Riggs and I kept talking, though we covered little ground. He didn’t dive deep into anything like I’d hoped. Had I been sober, I would’ve probed more, but according to him, I’m a one hit wonder. One hit was all it took to knock me on my ass.

I kept trying to carry on the conversation, but eventually my thoughts would drift into the next before I’d finished the first one. I got all confused and forgot what I was going to say. Riggs thought it was hilarious, and I relished in his laugh every time he let it out, which with Riggs I sensed was rare.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up from a phenomenal nap with my head resting on his shoulder.

Eventually, Jensen came out and scooped me up. Riggs followed, carrying my backpack to the car. We had to take my Wrangler because we couldn’t all fit in Jensen’s car. That left Riggs’ bike back on campus as well after he admitted to his best friend that he shouldn’t drive.

I expected Jensen to be upset, but he wasn’t. He honestly seemed happy that Riggs was with someone and didn't even joke about finding us together.

Now, it’s Saturday, midway through the morning, much later than I ever sleep in, but that was some of the best sleep I have had in a long time, so I’m hiding in my bed as long as I can.

A soft knock permeates the still air in my room. Instead of answering right away, I yank the covers up over myself because I sleep naked most nights, snuggling into the warmth of my bed. Despite my missed workout, I’m good. I can bet the person knocking is my mother checking in on me. She’s not used to me sleeping in either.

“Come in,” I call out and an echo of my words bounces around the room.

The door knob twists and my mom peeks her head in.

My parents must be going somewhere because she has a full face of makeup on and she swept her hair back into a neat bun on the top of her head. She’s wearing a teal blue batwing dress that cinches at her narrow waist. I’ve always admired my mother’s style. She isn’t one of those moms dressed like she is always either going to or leaving the country club. Her figure is a killer, and she shows it off.

“Hi, my baby girl. Are you sleepy today, sweetpea?” she asks as she tiptoes in her flats across the room. “Are you feeling okay?”

She props her hip on the edge of the bed when my dad pops in. “Hey, princess. I’m taking your mom out for lunch then she wants to go shopping.”

“Is it that late already?” They both chuckle, their smiles beaming as they gander at me. As much as I complain about my life or my parents, how overbearing they are, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t know how much they love me. I wish I didn’t learn about my father’s shady business dealings or where his money came from. I imagine most kids with parents like mine would agree.

“You’ve slept in this morning. Is everything alright?” Mom continues. I nod, sleepy. For once, everything is great.

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