“I can explain,” I blurted, finally holding it out for him to take.
Liam took it, turning the joint between his fingers, studying it.
“What kind is it?” he asked.
I laughed nervously. “I have no idea. Clara gave it to me—said it might help with my panic attacks.”
He didn’t respond. Just stared down at me, unreadable.
My stomach dropped. He was going to arrest me for real this time.
“Are you going to take me to jail?”
I could already see my mugshot.
“Nope,” he said casually.
Before I could process his surprising answer, he lifted the joint to his lips and took a slow, deliberate inhale.
My jaw practically hit the ground. “Uh—what are you doing?”
“Smoking your joint,” he said nonchalantly.
“I mean, yeah, I can see that, but like… isn’t that against the law? And if anyone should be following it, shouldn’t it be you?”
“You know marijuana’s legal in Montana, right?” he said, exhaling a stream of smoke.
“Since when?”
“Six months ago. Recreational and medical. Pick your poison.”
I let out a breath, my shoulders sagging with relief. Liam laughed—a deep, genuine sound that made it very clear he’d enjoyed every second of messing with me.
I punched his arm. “That’s not funny, Liam. I almost had a heart attack. The panic attack I was having was about to be the least of my problems.”
“Why were you having a panic attack?”
“The short answer is I don’t know. The long answer is I don’t know.”
He lifted the joint to his lips again, inhaling. He didn’t say anything, just kept staring down at me with that scowl he always has on his face.
“Sometimes when I’m alone I get in my own head, think of problems that aren’t even real, and work myself up over nothing. It’s like my brain won’t shut off. Then not long after that, I feel like someone’s putting bricks on my chest to the point that I can’t breathe.”
“Hmm.” He pulled out his phone, dialing a number I recognized. “Hey. I'm not going to make it to boys’ night tonight. Something came up.”
I looked at him confused as he ended the call with my brother, Jace.
“What came up?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You said you get in your head when you’re alone, so I’m not leaving you alone.”
I laughed awkwardly because that was what I did when people tried to do nice things for me. I laughed like a weirdo because it made me uncomfortable to accept help. Ninety-nine of my problems I could solve on my own, but I guessed this was the one thing I’d never be able to get over.
“What does Molly McKinley do on a Friday night when she’s at home all alone?” Liam asked, lookingaround my backyard, taking in the chicken coops and tomato plants.
