Michelle brushed the shivers from her arms. “It’s not that easy. I’d lose everything. You saw me at the gas station. I’m not sure I could survive life on the outside.”
“Then marry Prince.” I shrugged. “That’s your choice. Problem solved.”
“So my choices are pumping my own gas or marrying Prince? No middle ground?”
“Correct.”
She nudged me, smiling, and we sat in silence until I pulled a blunt from my pocket and lit it. “Wanna try?”
“What makes you think I haven’t tried it before?”
“Just a hunch.”
“And you automatically assume I’m a prude?”
I lifted my hands. “Whoa, I’m not stereotyping anyone. I’m just trying to smoke my joint in peace. Take it or leave it. If you leave it, more for me.”
Michelle hesitated, her good angel screaming in her ear. “Okay, fine, I’m a prude. Give it to me.”
“I knew it.” I laughed and passed it over.
She took a puff. Her eyes went wide on the first inhalation, and then the coughing fit started. It took her a full minute to get words out again. “Oh, my god. That’s awful.”
She handed it back.
“You know what? I take it back. Marry Prince. You’re not cut out for this life.”
We laughed as only people with a lung full of cannabis can, and once we’d finally calmed down, she said, “I wanted to try it to say I did.”
“I can think of something else you could try to say you did.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Again, how do you know I’ve never had sex?”
“Again, just a hunch.”
“You think you’re so much more worldly than me. I’ve met Princess Diana, I’ll have you know.”
“Big whoop. I’ve met Burger King. Wore the paper crown and everything.”
She swatted my arm. “I like you,” she said. “More than I should.”
“I like you,” I shot back. “Exactly the right amount.”
Our eyes met, and something passed between us. A spark I couldn’t name, only feel.
“You know,” she said lightly, her fingers tracing mine, “there is a third option. Ditch Prince and run off with you.”
I pictured her in my crappy apartment with Zonk. Yeah, right. “That’s a dangerous option to put on the table.”
She tipped her face up, lips puckered and waiting. I turned and cupped her face. She was too beautiful to rest on morals.
“You don’t want me?” she asked.
“Oh, you know I want you,” I said, dropping a kiss to her lips. “But I’m warning you now, I’m probably not the guy you’re looking for.”
“Who says?” Michelle kissed me back, light but sure. “Not me.”
“Look, I’ll take the invitation. But I’m no hero, so don’t expect me to save you from your evil mother.”
