Bodhi glances at me, eyes wide. “Not even weed?”
A chuckle bubbles up my throat. “Okay, yes. That doesn’t really count, though.”
He shrugs. “I guess you’re right.”
“So, what’s it like?” I ask again, genuinely curious.
Bodhi scooches himself down into a lying position, staring up at the ceiling, so I do the same. One of the LED lights he has must be a projector because there’re lights that look like stars scattered above us.
“It’s euphoria,” he says, barely above a whisper. “It feels like anything is possible. Everything is heightened—every touch feels sensational. It makes me feel good… good in a way I wish I was able to feel sober.”
I don’t quite know what to say back to that. It’s much more open and vulnerable than I was expecting from him, so I simply nod. There is an undeniable sadness to Bodhi. It’s something I want to dig into, but if I’ve learned anything about him so far, it’s that I need to take his vulnerability as a gift, because it doesn’t show itself often, and continue to get to know him slowly.
Out of my peripheral, I see him glance over at me. “Want to try some?” he asks, my eyes darting to meet his.
“What?” There’s no way I heard him right.
“I have some left over. Do you want to try it with me?”
Okay, I guess I heard him right. There’s no way I can do that. I can’t do drugs, I’m a judge, for Christ’s sake. But… not only is Bodhi willingly speaking to me right now; he’s also offering me this experience to do with him as well. Do I really want to pass that up? And I mean, it wouldn’t be theonlylaw I’ve broken in Bodhi’s presence. I did hire him, an escort, after all.
Still, I couldn’t… could I?
Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe it’ll open Bodhi up some more and we can get closer on a deeper, emotional level.
“Sure, let’s do it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bodhi King
What the fuck.
My brain is not computing how I’ve found myself in this situation. How Ialwaysfind myself in this situation with Jules. It’s like his presence, his fuckingpheromones, overrides my mind, disabling my will to think clearly. It’s the only logical explanation.
No matter how much I tell myself I’ll stay away, that I won’t let him weasel his way into a place where he’s close enough to sway me, I always wind up here. All week I did so well, ignoring his texts and calls, keeping my distance, and holding my ground. All for what? To end up with him in my bedroom in the middle of a storm, about to roll on molly together?
Because that’ll end well, Bodhi.
But alas, here we are. Nerves eat at my stomach like a piranha as I reach into the drawer on my desk, pulling out the little white baggy in there. Henry, from my psych class, sold me three pills the day before I met Jules at the hotel. I only took one that night because it’s not something I do often, which leaves us just enough to do tonight.
Handing him one, I pop mine into my mouth, grabbing the water bottle on my desk and washing the capsulated substance down before handing it to him to do the same. When he hands me the bottle back, he looks unsure and maybe a little nervous. Part of me wants to reach out. Comfort him. But I can’t.
“How long will it take before we feel anything?”
“About forty-five minutes, give or take,” I reply with a shrug.
Leaving him in my room, I grab some waters from the fridge, knowing we’re going to get thirsty soon enough. My mind won’t let go of what he told me. He and Ryan haven’t spoken intwo years. They never had the closest relationship. I know Ryan resented how much Jules worked, but still, it’s shocking to hear.
Despite their differences and Ryan’s opinions of his work, they were still a father/son relationship I looked up to when I was younger. Ryan knew he was loved; he never had to question it.
As much as I want to dig deeper and ask why they had a falling out, I won’t—I can’t. The more I learn about Jules, the more I uncover, the harder it’ll be to walk away when I inevitably have to. Whateverthisis between us, this unhealthy song and dance has to end. It shouldn’t have ever started, but I can’t change what’s already done.
We continue to listen to music, and Jules makes numerous attempts at small talk, for the better part of the next hour, before the rush of the high hits me. Every inch of my skin starts to feel alive. It’s the only way I know how to describe it. An electric current runs just under my skin, lighting it up, while my blood pumps faster and my body relaxes. We’ve somehow ended up lying side by side on my bed once again, close enough that our arms brush.
Glancing over, it’s clear the molly’s hit Jules, too. His pupils are blown, and his cheeks are flushed. I can’t help the smile that pulls on my lips.She Ridesby Danzig filters through my Bluetooth speaker, the sound overwhelmingly good. Every beat of the drum, every strum of the electric guitar, and every single lyric rolls out like warm honey, wrapping around my tendons, muscles, and veins.
To my right, Jules rolls onto his side, one hand resting under his cheek on the pillow, the other beside me, so I do the same. His chocolate brown eyes appear almost black as his bottom lip quivers slightly. The hand that was beside me comes up until it’s holding on to my hip over my fleece pants, the contact igniting a fire on my flesh, spreading like a trail of gasoline. My heart thumps fast and hard as I try to remind myself why him touching me in any capacity is a bad idea.
