“It’s all good.” He waves me off. “Wanna go out back with me?”
I nod, a smile splitting my face. The dopamine hit I feel coursing through my blood at the thought of being alone with him is similar to the feeling of being a kid on Christmas morning. It’s wild.Does he feel that way too, seeing me?
Xander leads the way, and I follow him behind the counter and into a back storage area. Back there, there’s a door that leads to an alleyway. Nobody else is out here. Once we’re outside, Xander puts a stopper in the doorjamb so we aren’t locked out, and when he turns to face me, what can only be described as nervousness flashes through his eyes. As it always is when we’re around each other, the air thickens. It intensifies. The sparks, the chemistry, that’s ever-present with him makes itself known, and I suddenly wish we were truly alone.
“How was your flight?” he asks, pulling out a joint, placing it between his lips, and lighting it. I do the same, only with a cigarette.
“Wasn’t bad,” I reply honestly. “How’re you feeling about all of this?”
“It’s awesome.” Xander’s excitement is contagious. “Way more people showed up than Bastian and I thought. I even think a couple of my college friends might come too.”
Unable to keep my hands to myself anymore, I step up to Xander, my hand going around the back of his neck. “Okay, I can’t be near you any longer without kissing you first.”
He huffs out a small laugh, a hot puff of air brushing my lips. “Then kiss me, cowboy,” he murmurs, before I do just that.
Xander’s lips part on a groan, and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue inside, rolling against his. He tastes so damn good, and when his hand comes up, slipping underneath the hem of my shirt, fingers brushing against my bare skin, I can’t help the shiver that rolls through me. Xander walks us backward until my back hits the brick wall. He presses his body flush with mine, and the kiss grows hungrier from there. Six weeks is too long to go without this, that thought blowing my mind almost as much as his touch is.
I’ve gone most of my life without a connection like this, and I was surviving just fine, and now, not even two whole months without him has me crawling out of my skin with need. The distance has only intensified things between us. All the text messages sent, the hours spent on the phone together, or on FaceTime where we got to see each other but couldn’t touch. Talk about fucking torture. But it gave us the chance to truly learn about each other. Things we never would’ve thought to talk about had we been in the flesh. The random likes and dislikes we have, various childhood and adolescent stories shared, hopes for the future for ourselves. So, while the distance sucked, it alsogave us the opportunity to learn about each other on a deeper level. On a less physical level.
If possible, I feel closer to him now than I did when he left for Washington. I can say with one hundred percent certainty that what I feel for Xander goes so far past a crush. I care for him in a visceral, intimately deep way. And I’m almost positive he feels the same.
I hope so.
After a few minutes, we manage to pull ourselves apart before it becomes way too inappropriate for a public place. We finish smoking and head back inside. Xander grabs my hand as he leads me back through the building, throwing me a glance over his shoulder. “There’re some people I want you to meet,” he says with glee.
We walk up to a group of three people: two guys and a girl. The same group he was talking to when I got here. All three sets of eyes turn to us as we approach, and it’s quite clear that one of the guys and the girl are related. Suddenly, nerves rush through my veins, tickling my gut. These people are obviously important enough to Xander that he wants us to meet, and I want to make a good impression. My friends love him. I want his to love—or at the very least, like—me.
“Guys, this is Cope.” I don’t have to look at Xander to know there’s a grin on his face. It’s heard loud and clear when he speaks. Warmth spreads through my chest. “Cope, this is Charlotte, Travis, and Travis’s fiancé, Mateo.”
They all take me in, grins on their faces. I extend my hand, shaking all three of theirs. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you guys. Xander’s told me so much about you.”
“Yeah, it’s great to meet you, too, man,” one of the guys, Travis, replies. He’s Xander’s best friend. His Shooter. Probably the one I’ve heard about the most. “How long are you in Washington for?”
“Just until Sunday.”
“If you guys don’t have anything else planned, let’s all grab dinner tomorrow night,” Travis suggests, eyes sliding over to Xander.
Xander nods, looking at me. “I’m down, if you are?”
It’s my turn to nod. “Let’s do it.”
“Cool. Well, we gotta get going, but it was great to meet you, Cope. And Xan, so fucking proud of you, dude.”
As soon as they leave, Xander gets pulled away by a few customers who have questions. I busy myself, strolling around, looking at all the items inside the glass and on the walls. It’s all foreign to me, and honestly, mind-blowing seeing in a store like this. Wyoming is still very much a weed illegal state, and while I’ve tried smoking a few times in high school, it was never something I got into. Despite not being around it much, Idobelieve it has some incredible medicinal qualities, and think it should be as legal everywhere as alcohol is.
I love that Xander found something he enjoys, something he’s passionate about, and he was able to make a career out of it. While I don’t necessarily believe in the statement ‘if you find a career you love, you’ll never work a day in your life’—because loving it or not, it’s still hard work—I do think enjoying what you do goes a long way in making it notfeelas daunting and mentally taxing.
“Have you tried any of those yet?” someone asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
It’s not until I turn my head and meet a forest green gaze looking back at me that I realize he’s talking to me. A man about my height stands before me with buzzed, short blond hair and a warm smile on his face. His nose is pierced with a black hoop, and he’s got tattoos scattered all over his arms.
“Oh, no. I haven’t tried any of these.” I huff out a laugh before adding, “I don’t even smoke weed, actually. I can’t, really, because of my job.”
The guy’s brow quirks, lip twitching like he’s trying to fight a smile. “Well, you’re standing in front of the edibles, so you wouldn’t smoke those.”
I glance down at the contents inside of the counter, nodding as my neck heats, the warmth spilling into my cheeks. “Ah, yeah. I knew that.”
It’s a lie. He knows it, I know it. “Right. So, what do you do for work then?”
