by Julia Wolf
The dispensary they took me to wasn’t anything like I’d pictured. It wasn’t seedy or smoke-filled. Instead, it was brightly lit and immaculately clean and reminded me of an old-fashioned pharmacy. I let Rodrigo and Adam pick out my treats, trusting them to do right by me. They picked up a tube of gummies and a roll of taffy. I snagged a package of what looked like Swedish Fish for Dominic after Rodrigo approved of my choice.
Iris and Marta took their pot buying seriously, having a long discussion with one of the workers about different strains. I listened, because it was interesting, but their knowledge was far too advanced for me. I was looking to get high and giggle—that was it.
After we left the dispensary, we had lunch on the patio of a tiny Mexican restaurant and planned our night.
“Anyone up for going out? Upside of high-altitude drinking is getting drunk hella fast,” Iris said.
I groaned. “I seriously don’t want to be hungover again for a good six months.”
Marta tapped her chin, then perked up. “I happen to know Dominic’s suite has access to a private rooftop terrace complete with a firepit. Maybe I can bribe him with weed taffy to let us hang out there.”
“Sweet.” Rodrigo held a tortilla chip loaded with salsa aloft. “Think we can lay our hands on some marshmallows? I want to make Claire some s’mores.”
Iris cocked her head back. “I have known you for six years and you’ve never made me a fucking s’more. Claire is amazing and everything, but where’s the love, Roddy?”
He gave me a look while he chewed on his chip. I cleared my throat and leaned in closer to Iris. “The thing is, I’ve never called him Roddy. That might be a starting point.”
Iris cackled and gave my shoulder a playful swat. “Thank you, honey bunny. I love you to pieces.”
It was strange and delightful how quickly I’d been welcomed into this group of rockers. They weren’t anything like the friends Derrick and I had shared, but I liked them better. They were raw and messy sometimes, but they were true to themselves. Or, in Iris’s case, as true as her record label allowed her to be. And even though on the outside I didn’t quite fit in with their achingly hip, punk rock aesthetic, it turned out that didn’t really matter.
I’d never felt so warm and cozy with people. I hadn’t known that was an option, outside of family members. But when Rodrigo cuddled with me or Iris called me honey bunny, I felt genuine affection from them. I would hate when this tour ended, but I’d always be glad to have known them. And hey, maybe it was possible we could be forever-friends, even when their star began to soar—and it would.
Once we finished eating, Adam handed me a piece of taffy. “Start small and see how you feel.”
I took the sticky candy, flipping it over in my hand. “I can’t believe this is going to get me high.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Just wait.”
The high was gradual, but suddenly, everything was just a little bit funnier and my troubles were background noise. Marta and I sat in the rear of the hotel van on our way back, slumped down with our knees on the back of Rodrigo and Adam’s bench, whispering secrets to each other like no one else could hear. It was quite possible they either couldn’t or didn’t care, since everyone else had partaken too.
“What do you think Callum’s deal is?” I asked.
Marta sputtered. “He’s extremely serious.”
I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue like a dead man. “The worst. Let’s promise to always be unserious. Oh shit, is that a word?” I snickered.
Marta drew her phone from her pocket, holding the screen close to her face. “Score! Dom says we can use his terrace.”
I poked at her phone. “He’s serious too.”
“Yeah, but he likes to be around people who aren’t.”
“What?”
She grinned at me and cupped my cheek. “Nothing. I think Iris might not be into me.”
“Impossible. You’re so pretty.”
She blinked twice, like she was trying to clear something from her eyes. “Are you hitting on me, Claire?”
I laughed so hard, I fell over into her lap. She stroked my hair and laughed along with me.
Rodrigo turned in his seat and aimed his phone at us, taking our picture. “You’re gonna want to remember this, preciosa.”
I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, that, for once, weren’t caused by sadness, and smiled wide. “I promise you I will.”
* * *
Our group met back up in the evening. I’d spent time resting in my room, and when the high wore off, I talked to Isabela for a while about the upcoming tour stops. She seemed confounded by how well-behaved Dominic was being, but I was happy about it. I wasn’t sure I was quite up for handling a big scandal.
We had to go through Dominic’s room to get to the terrace, so we knocked on his door.
He opened quickly, ushering us inside. The others passed by, thanking him for letting us use his space, but I lingered behind, waving his gummies at him.
“A thank you.”
He took them from me, examining the package, then looked up, eyebrows raised. “Did you have fun?”
“I really did.” I tipped my head in the direction of the steps everyone had climbed. “You should come up and join us.”
He shrugged. “I’m good here.”
“Haven’t you been alone in your room all day?” I pressed.
“I have. I don’t mind being alone. Most of the time, I prefer it.” He brought his hands to his hips, the plastic of the gummies crinkling. “You should go, find your friends.”
“I know I should.” I tugged on the ends of the strings on my hoodie. “I will. I just wanted to ask you to come too.”
He sighed, sweeping a hand over his short hair. “You asked. You did your duty. Don’t feel guilty that I’m sitting down here lonely.”
I couldn’t seem to be in Dominic’s presence without my stomach doing this crazy falling thing. It was impossible to stand two feet away from him and not long to close the distance—to not hope he’d say “fuck it” to his tightly held control and…
I had to stop. My friends were waiting, and from the heat spreading down my cheeks and chest, I was surely blushing.
“Okay. Well…goodnight, then.”
I hurried up the stairs to the roof where Adam and Rodrigo were getting a fire going. Lattice walls divided the space, giving it privacy and a cozy feel. There were padded lounge chairs off to the side, and brightly colored Adirondack chairs circled the wide, stone pit. The night was just crisp enough for me to want to lean into the warmth of the fire.
The hotel had provided us with s’mores kits, so we were eating marshmallows and chocolate for dinner tonight. I curled up in an Adirondack chair and tipped my head back to look at the stars.
Marta pushed a gummy into my hand. “You need this, kidlet.”
“Thank you, my love.” I popped it into my mouth with a grin, chewing slowly. “Did I ever tell you you remind me of my sister?”
She took the chair next to me. “You didn’t. Give me more information. Is this sister amazing? Tell me more, tell me more.”
“She is. Her name is Annaliese and she’s a femme lesbian gardener.”
Marta looked down at her button-up shirt, cuffed jeans, and platform boots. “Uh…”
I giggled. “Not on the outside. I meant your personality and how caring you are. Annaliese is hilarious, but she also has this innate sense when she’s needed and she’s just there, you know? And you just looked at me, said, ‘that girl needs a pot gummy,’ and you were exactly right.”
Marta snorted. “Okay, well, Annaliese sounds cool as hell, so I’m gonna need to meet her when we go home.” She reached across and squeezed my hand. “I’ve got you, Claire-bear.”
I involuntarily jerked back. “Oh, please don’t call me that. That was what my ex-husband called me and—”
Rodrigo bounced in front of me. “You were married? Way to keep secrets from me.”
“Yeah.”
Marta smacked the hand she’d just been holding. “What the hell?”
Adam scooted his chair closer. “Claire was married?”
Iris raised her hand. “First I’m hearing about this.”
“Actually, I’m going through a really fucking awful divorce right now.” I cringed, awaiting their reactions.
Marta immediately climbed out of her chair, plopped her tiny butt on my lap, and bear-hugged me. Then Rodrigo found a space to snuggle in on my side. They both murmured sweet nothings, and since I was a little high from the gummy, I hadn’t felt that good…maybe ever.
When they let go, Iris fist-bumped me, and Adam gave me his own hug.
“Okay, okay.” I cut my hands through the air. “I’m fine. My ex is awful, and I can’t wait to be rid of him, but I’m not broken, promise.”
Iris shook her head. “No one thought you were.”
Rodrigo sat on my other side, and the firelight glowed on the puppy dog eyes he gave me. “Tell me how to make it better. Let’s plan some kind of Claire-is-emancipated-from-the-dragon shindig.”
Calling Derrick a dragon tugged at my belly and sent a ripple of giggles through me. Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I laughed so hard, I rolled to my side in my chair, clutching my middle.
When I finally got myself together and opened my eyes, a tall, shadowy figure caught my attention, and my breath wedged in my throat.
“Dominic?” I croaked.
He stepped forward into the light, his lips curving into a rare smile. “Does the offer to join you still stand?”
Chapter Twenty
Dominic
Claire’s laughter had brought me to the roof. I’d never heard her laugh so hard and for so long. My gut told me I needed to see her that way for myself.
And what a fucking sight. Her throaty laugh sounded like the devil’s church bells calling all the sinners to service. The firelight danced over her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes, they caught the flames like stained glass in the sun.
There was no doubt she was as high as a kite, but I liked seeing her this way. I didn’t remember a time I’d ever reached that level of happiness or ease, chemically enhanced or not. It soothed me to know it was possible.
Marta held out her hands. “Get over here, Dom. I have to ask you a question.”
I took a seat opposite Claire with the fire at my back. “Ask away.”
Marta poked a finger at me. “Did you know Claire was married?”
“Uh…” I scrubbed my chin. “Yes…”
Claire giggled again. “Stop it. It wasn’t a secret, I just don’t want to think about it.”
Rodrigo crossed his arms. “I’m betrayed.”
Yeah, the whole group was fucking flying. I should’ve popped an edible before coming up, but there was something to be said for being the only sober one in a group of stoners. That hadn’t always been the case, but I wasn’t twenty anymore either.
“Oh my god, it just came out when I was talking to Dominic the same way it came out tonight. There’s no big conspiracy.” Claire ruffled Rodrigo’s hair, and he leaned into her hand like a kitten.
“Okay, I forgive you.”
“How long?” Iris asked.
“How long was I married?”
Iris nodded.
Claire held up four fingers. Four years.
“What? You were a baby!” Iris’s mouth hung open for a beat. “Wow. So, how long have you been separated? And is it definitely going to be divorceville?”
“Oh yeah. There’s no going back for me.” Claire leaned her head on her hand. “It’s been three and a half months since I left.”
“This is really new,” Adam said.
“It is,” she confirmed. “But the person I was when I was married feels a thousand miles away. That’s old Claire, and she was a submissive bore.”
Iris snapped. “I hope you lit all his shit on fire.”
I didn’t know Claire’s ex. I had no idea why they broke up. But I strongly agreed with Iris. I would have been cool with it if she’d lit the whole man on fire.
“I didn’t. That’s not my style. All I want is to be free, and I am.” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “Look at me now, baby.”
Rodrigo rubbed his hands together. “Now, let’s plan your emancipation celebration. What kind of naughty things can we make Claire do?”
“We’re making Claire do things?” Adam waggled his eyebrows at her. I had to stop my hands from balling. This kid was the human equivalent of toothpicks under fingernails. He made me fucking cringe with how obvious and cheesy he was.
“No one makes Claire do anything,” Marta declared. “But hypothetically, if we made you do something you’ve never done before but always sort of wanted to, what would it be?”
Claire bit her lip and hummed to the sky. “Strip club. I’ve never been, and I’ve always wanted to go. My ex used to take bro golf trips and they’d always hit up the strip club, but he never wanted me to go with him.”
Rodrigo cupped his mouth. “Whaaat? We’re getting Claire some booty in the champagne room? Hell yes!”
Iris bobbed her head a few too many times. “I’m in, I’m in. We should go in Vegas. Those girls are stunnas.”
Adam slammed his hand down. “It’s settled. My girl’s getting a lap dance.”
My girl? Who the hell did the guy think he was? I highly fucking doubted Claire was timing her orgasms for him. Highly. Fucking. Doubted.
Claire opened her arms. “I’ll take one right now if you’re offering.”
He started to rise, but my arm shot out, blocking him. “Don’t. She’s high, and if you take advantage of that, you’re even more of a twat than I thought.”
He sat back in his chair, shooting me a withering look, but I ignored the little shit. I knew I was something of a hypocrite, but that didn’t mean I’d let anyone else slide—not with her.
Undeterred, Claire curled her finger at me. “I wouldn’t mind a little silver fox in my lap.”
“There’s nothing little about me,” I deadpanned.
She snickered, mouthing, “I know.”
The others kept on talking about the strip clubs they’d been to and trading horror stories of some of the worst, most seedy ones. I could’ve told a hundred stories of my own, but I wasn’t much on sharing. Especially not now, when I was caught up in looking at Claire, and she was looking right back.
She gave me a slow, lazy smile, and my lips twitched at how outrageously adorable she was, all mellow, snuggled in her chair in a big hoodie. She made me want to take her in my lap and touch each of her soft places, then bend her over and slap her ass for taking up so much space in my head.
Claire uncurled from her chair and approached the fire. As she passed me, she brushed her hand over my shoulder. “What is going on in your brain?”
I stood too, watching her push a marshmallow onto a metal spear. “A lot of things.”
She lowered the metal into the fire. “Are they text-worthy thoughts?”
“Some.”
She tipped her face up to me and arched a brow. “Intriguing. You should tell me more.”
“I don’t think I should. Not with your boy hanging around.”
Claire glanced over her shoulder at Adam, then back to me. “I think you know I’m not interested in boys.”
Her marshmallow caught fire, so I took her hand, lifting it from the flames, and blew it out. She smiled and put it right back in.
“I like them charred black. You didn’t need to rescue my poor little marshmallow.” Her elbow nudged my ribs. “Make one for yourself. When was the last time you ate a s’more?”
I allowed a small chuckle to release. “Longer than you’ve been alive.”
“Eat one, Dominic. Get sticky with me.” She slid her black marshmallow between two graham crackers and took a bite. White spilled over her lips, and her tongue poked out to catch it. “Yum.”
This girl knew exactly what she was doing, and it was working. If we were alone…
“Is it s’mores time now?” Rodrigo bounced between us, pushing Claire and me apart.
“Yes, it is. I was just convincing Dominic to make one.”
Rodrigo whirled around on me, his eyes manic. Hell, maybe they were always manic. “You’re not making a s’more, dude? What, are you on some dietician-approved, no carb, plant-based, zero fun diet to maintain that smokin’ bod?”
“You caught me.” Who the hell was this kid? Had he been beamed here from another planet? The weird thing was, I kind of dug him, and I didn’t dig many people. No doubt I’d get over it the more I knew him, but for now, I didn’t mind his presence.
Rodrigo rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “I won’t tell if you want a cheat day. Claire won’t tell either.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Will you, boo?”
She shook her head with a solemn expression. “No, sir. I won’t tell anyone, even if they torture me.”
I pointedly grabbed a marshmallow from the pyramid the kitchen staff had stacked on the tray and jabbed the metal spear through it.
“No one tortures you but me.”
“Oooh, yeah. I can see that about you. You like the whips-and-chains lifestyle. Spicy.” Rodrigo checked his marshmallow and declared it perfect. He doctored up his s’more, leaving Claire and me by the fire again.
“Having fun?” I reached out, swiped my thumb over her sticky bottom lip, and sucked it into my mouth. “Marshmallow.”
She groaned quietly and eased closer to my side. “More fun than I should have while I’m working, I think. I doubt my next job will live up to this one.”
“Don’t think you’ll keep working for Isabela?”
Claire cringed, but not from my question. “Your marshmallow is gone.”
I checked my stick, and sure enough, it was empty. “Fuck. I actually wanted that.”
She ran her hand up my chest, patting twice. “I’ll make you one, and it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”
When her hand lingered on me, I glanced down at it, then up to her eyes. “Are you still scared of me, Claire?”