Carver’s stomach swooped with pride and anxiety. “It’s kinda bad.”
Scott laughed. “I figured. It felt bad.”
“I didn’t even realize.”
“It’s all good, I’m not the one getting married tomorrow.”
“Yeah. It’s black tie, are you wearing a tux?”
“Technically I’m a vendor, not a guest,” Scott said with a smile. “But yeah, your mom was generous enough to rent me one, so.”
“Minimizes tattoo visibility.”
“That did occur to me as a motive.”
Carver looked at the cigarette, and Scott offered it to him. He filled his lungs with heat, then exhaled and said, “You’re not working all night, are you?”
“Nah. Ceremony, cocktail hour, first dance, then the DJ takes over and I can come have fun.”
Carver handed him his cigarette back. Scott took it and examined it as if seeing it for the first time.
“I need to just quit,” he said, twirling it in his fingers.
“Get a vape.”
“No, Christ, those are so lame. And I’m not even that addicted, it’s just an affectation. But I don’t want to die for an affectation.”
“So put it out,” Carver said, wondering if he would obey.
Scott met his eyes in the darkness, then reached behind himself and stubbed the cigarette out on the tree without looking.
“You’ve been smoking a lot for a guy who isn’t even addicted,” Carver said.
Scott laughed. “I’ve been smoking more this weekend than I have the last few months combined.”
“Nervous?”
“Absolutely.”
“To see me?”
“That was most of it.”
Carver’s dick twitched. “You don’t want to die for an affectation, but you’re not giving up the motorcycle,” he pointed out, swerving topics.
“Man, the motorcycle isn’t an affectation.”
“No?”
“Hell no.”
“What is it?”
“Freedom,” Scott said. “I know it’s dangerous, I’m not stupid. I do it as safely as I can. But there’s no feeling like it.”
“My sister told me once that she’s ridden a motorcycle and galloped on a horse, and the horse was more fun.”
“Well, I can’t take a horse on the turnpike.”
