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“Was that really necessary?” Ava asks, wide-eyed.
I drag Talbot’s unconscious figure back into the apartment and dump him on the carpet. “No.”
“You didn’t… kill him, right?”
I chuckle. “Of course not. He’s my new business partner. And he can’t very well get you back into BCU if he’s dead. He’ll wakeup tomorrow with a headache.” I walk to the kitchen and grab a beer from the fridge. “Want one?”
She stares at me. “Do I want a beer? Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?”
“What’s the hurry?”
She starts to answer, then stops herself, as though struggling to come up with something. “I mean… leaving the scene of the crime?”
“So you don’t want a beer?”
Ava stares at me again, then she laughs. “Fine, fine. Beer me.”
I toss her a bottle, which she misses. It shatters on the floor.
“Nice throw.”
“Nice catch.”
We make eye contact, then both of us start laughing. “Here,” I say, carefully handing her the bottle this time. “Want to sit out on the balcony?”
She walks over to the coffee table, past Talbot, and picks up what seems to be a jar of weed and some rolling papers. “Sure, if you’ll smoke a joint with me.”
I give her the side eye. “You want me to smoke weed with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t smoke with us that night we met. I’ve been dying to see what you’re like stoned.”
“Really?”
She interprets my response as a yes, picking up the jar and papers and walking out to the balcony with them. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
***
I haven’t smoked weed in years. The last time was with Dominic, now that I think about it. I’m weirdly apprehensive as Ava rolls the joint next to me with practiced fingers.
“Should I make a joke about how good you are at that?”
My wife shrugs. “Second semester of senior year, all I did was smoke. I got pretty good at rolling.”
“It’s still weird for me to hear that and realize you mean your senior year ofhigh school.”
She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, sealing the joint with her tongue. “I think it’s a little late to be having concerns about the age gap. You know we met before? When I was 14?”
“Fuck, really? Not exactly helping me feel less creepy.”
Ava leans closer, looking at me with big, fuck-me eyes. “If you felt creepy for being with me, you probably should have thought of that before you fucked me and came inside me a bunch of times. Iamon birth control, if you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering.”
She looks at me sharply, then gives a shudder, putting the joint to her lips. “Got a light?”
