And now I’m taking her here with me. It won’t mean anything to her, but it means something to me. Bringing someone else here feels a little weird, but at the same time, I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d want to bring here.
The road narrows as the ground gets higher and higher. Rosalie’s looking out the window, seeing as the view gets farther away the higher we go. She looks back at me, questioning where we’re going, but she doesn’t ask, and I don’t answer.
When we reach the top, I stop the car and pull the handbrake up.
“This is it?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Is this the part where you jump, and I’m an accomplice in your suicide?” she jokes.
I laugh. “You’re funny.”
She smiles. “So… what do we do?”
“We chill.” I turn to face her, and the look on her face makes me chuckle. She’s confused. Her brows are furrowed, and her lips are pursed, which makes me glance down at her lips. They’re pink, and they look so soft.
I tear my eyes away from her lips and instead bring something else to my mouth. I take out my cigarettes from my jacket and light one up. Her eyes stay focused on the movement of the cigarette as I bring it to my lips.
“I thought there’d be more, you know, with your reputation and all.”
I snap my eyes toward her. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“So, it’s not true?” she asks.
I shrug. “Some of it is, some of it isn’t.”
“And the drug dealer part?” she asks.
I'm not up for discussing what I do or don't do in my free time. She doesn't need to know about it, and it doesn't concern her, so I don't say anything. I inhale the cigarette and blow the smoke out of the window.
She sighs loudly. “Can I try?”
That catches my attention. I look at her as her brows raise. Her hands are out and open, waiting for something
“Try what?”
She points at the cigarette hanging out of my mouth. “That.”
“That?” I ask. “Do you even know what it’s called?” I joke.
“Can I smoke?” she asks.
I lift my brow at her. “I think you’ve had enough excitement tonight, angel.”
She frowns a little but then shakes her head. “Please?”
Jesus, I can’t say no to her. She looks like a little puppy dog. I take the cigarette out of my mouth and hand it to her. She picks it up between her thumb and pointer finger. I laugh. “Have you ever done this before?” I know the answer. Of course, she hasn’t.
“No,” she admits. “Will you teach me?”
I smirk. “That’s what I’m here for.”
I grab her hand in mine, relishing how different we are but how well her hand fits in mine. I put the cigarette between her pointer and middle finger and bring her hand to her lips. “Open.”
She opens her mouth and stays like that, waiting for me. I bring her hand closer to her face until the cigarette is inside her mouth. She tentatively closes her mouth until her lips are wrapped around it, and now I’m thinking of her lips wrapped around something else.
Christ.
