First Comes Love - Ashlee Price Page 0,15

turns to smile at me. “Caught me.”

I sniff the air again. “That’s pot, isn’t it?”

Another lazy smile. “Yep.”

“You can’t be doing that.”

As I approach, she looks genuinely curious. “Why not?”

Anger spikes in me, sudden and unreasonable and hot. “You could get yourself killed!”

I’m surprised at the vehemence of my own voice.

The curl of her lip corners is pure amusement. “Didn’t know it bothered you so much, Mr. Storm.”

“Of course it… what kind of boss do you take me for?”

“Honestly?” She looks at me head-on. “A talented one. Other than that, I… don’t know.”

I find myself going to sit down beside her. “I don’t pretend to know you, either. But I thought you were better than this.”

“Better than what?”

“Endangering yourself and the camp needlessly.”

“How am I endangering the camp? Afraid a snake will be drawn to the mouthwatering scent of la ganja?”

I want to laugh, but stop myself. “Harley.”

“What?”

“Fine. Endangering yourself, then. Being out here alone would be dangerous even if you were sober.”

Eyes on me, she slowly lifts the joint to her lips, takes a puff. Like a challenge. A sexy one that’s damn near irresistible.

My eyes on her lips now, what I even came here for is slowly rolling away, like the smoke from her lips, dissipating in the clear air.

“Is it that big of a deal?” she asks lightly, “Camp is literally a minute away if anything happens.”

“If you’re here, you’re my responsibility. And if anything happened to you…” Once again, I fall silent, surprised at how I’m talking. None of the cool all-business tone I’ve gotten more and more practiced at using. The words I’m saying sound too… real.

Her chuckle is throaty and infuriating at once. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, promise. It’s a perfectly safe way to chill out—I can prove it to you.”

As she holds out the joint to me, her gaze holds a different sort of challenge.

I take the joint without thinking, take a puff.

“See?” she says. “Not so bad.”

“Here’s a deal: I join you if you promise this is the last of this. If the others find out, it could look bad. The company could get bad press too, if this got out.”

Mid-puff, she giggles. “You already joined me, boss.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Even with my stern glare, she just giggles some more. Then, finally, she places a hand on her heart. “Alright, I promise.” She extends her pinky finger. “Want me to pinky swear too?”

The prospect of touching her makes me swallow, although I don’t so much as look at her tempting outstretched pinky, just tell her, “Good.”

After the next puff, I begin to feel the effects. The weight resting on my shoulders slackens, loosens.

My fingertips run absently along the bark, enjoying the intricacies of the different textures, grooves and dips and smooth patches amidst the soft fluff of moss. I keep my gaze straight ahead, into the impenetrable blackness of the forest. As if I don’t know full well what I long to actually run my fingers over, feel the grooves and softness and give and…

Greyson.

I can smell her, too, like some tempting jungle fruit I don’t know the name for yet.

We pass the joint back and forth, our fingers brushing, every touch akin to an electrical shock. I’d leave except she seems so… relaxed. If something was happening she wouldn’t be so relaxed, right?

Right?

My head is clogged with her, what I have to do, what I can’t do.

At some point, the sides of our legs touch. And though I know I have to move, I can’t seem to get the message to my legs.

Once the joint goes out, her head droops onto my shoulder, rests there. I force my eyes not to look at her, to see if she’s enjoying this added contact as much as I am. Fuck me. I’m the hardest I’ve ever been without watching porn. This is fucking stupid.

She lets out a little sigh. “I am sorry, you know.”

I don’t say anything, but she goes on as if I did. “OK, you may have had a point. Maybe it was a bit reckless and disrespectful, smoking just now, out here alone. I just couldn’t help myself.”

I swallow. Couldn’t help myself. Before, I wouldn’t say I knew the feeling, but now…

Get out, leave, my thoughts are snapping.

And… I can’t move.

She’s still speaking, her voice easy and resonant in the night. “I just—stress is so unnecessary, the way I see it. At least for me. We push and push and push to get things, and when we get