“Weed is legal now.”
“For cancer patients!”
“And plenty of other things.”
I roll my eyes when Knox pulls out a rectangular shaped, red plastic case and inside it is a pre-rolled joint and a lighter, but then I watch with rapt attention as he slides the joint in between his perfectly shaped lips, tilts his head to the side, and lights the end of paper with one eye shut.
There’s something about his smoking ritual which is so badass that I can’t look away, so I try deflecting this absurd attraction to him by changing the subject.
“Where’d you end up parking your truck and the bike?”
“In some overpriced lot around the corner. I’m going to give the night manager an extra hundred a month to keep a special eye on them.”
“Did you build the bike?”
“Me and Uncle Stone built it before I left for Miami.”
“And you used to ride it before you left?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I didn’t recognize it.”
“You were doing things that seniors in high school do at the time. Getting ready for prom, college, and staring in that musical you were in. I doubt you ever even noticed when I switched from riding a ten-speed Schwinn to a Ducati.”
“You’re right about that. It was my best year of high school ever without you hovering around me all the time.”
I gape at the size of Knox’s chest as it expands from laughing so hard at my admission.
“I imagine it was, but guess what? It was a great year for me too. I didn’t have to babysit you anymore.”
“Hallelujah, we agree on something.”
I can’t help but admire the colorful ink designs on Knox’s powerfully built arms as he takes another long pull of the joint. His tattoos are beautiful and complex and I especially like the intricate one of the falcon with wings that wrap around his bicep like a cuff.
I watch as the smoke wafts in slow ocean waves out of his mouth and up his nose. It’s obvious he’s done this many times before.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a pothead,” he explains after noticing the look on my face. “I only smoke when I need to think.”
He thinks I’m judging him when really I’m undressing the idiot with my eyes. I’ve never objectified Knox like this before and it’s not the kind of habit I want to get into, so I try the same deflection strategy again, talking about anything else.
“What do you need to think about?” I ask, as I try clearing my mind of lustful images like those lips wrapped around the nipple of one of my breasts as I play with myself.
Damn, that was very specific.
“A plan.”
“A plan for what?”
“For progress.”
“You’re a lot different from the last time I saw you,” I tell him. “You even talk differently.”
“That makes sense. We were kids then and now we’re adults. You’re different too.”
“What happened to you in Miami? You’re gone a few years and now you smoke weed, do our parents’ bidding, and have a body covered in tats.”
“That feels very judgmental, Gigi, but don’t worry. Nothing’s happened to me that needs to ever touch your world.”
“What does that mean, touch my world?”
“You’ve made it clear that you want nothing to do with what our parents have worked all their lives to build, so you live in this bubble down here with your college friends, your weird job, and your suit and tie boyfriend. This is a world of your own making. I hope you’re happy living in it.”
“Kids move away from home. They leave the nest. I’m no different.”
“You are the only daughter of Camden and Jade King. Two people who would burn down this whole fucking city for you. You don’t think it embarrassed your parents that you didn’t even bother to pick up their call or show up to that meeting at my Grandfather’s house? How do you think that made them look to my parents, Uncle Cutter, and Uncle Stone?”
“I’m not trying to be disrespectful to anyone I love. I just didn’t want this…you in my apartment wasting time because of some supposed threat. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Are you concerned about me wasting my time or are you worried about what Matt will think?”
It’s been an entire weekend and I’ve been avoiding Matthew like the plague, but I cannot keep this up much longer. He’s going to want some answers soon, and he definitely deserves them.
“Well, he is someone I’m seeing and how will I explain this arrangement between us, considering the terrible impression you left when you two first met?”
“I restrained myself.” Knox smiles smugly. “I was polite.”
I place my palms on top of my work script and stare Knox straight in the eyes.
“I don’t want Matthew anywhere near you or our beloved family. He’d never understand how you all operate.”
With his eyes still heavily centered on mine, Knox blows a stream of marijuana smoke in my face. I pull my face away and cough a little.
“I don’t feel the same way you do about our family, Gigi. I’m not ashamed of who we are. I’m proud.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t proud of them. I just wish that Dad would have used his computer super powers for good instead of ruining other people’s lives in order to make ours better.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. They’ve helped so many people.”
“All I know is that today you and I are dealing with the consequences of some of that supposed help while the only thing other people our age are worried about is getting up for work on time after a night of bar crawling.”
“And that’s the life you want?” He asks incredulously.
A safe one?
A predictable one?
A normal one?
“Hell, yes.”
“Maybe if our parents had been born into different families and neighborhoods, they would’ve had opportunities to make different choices, but that’s not the hand that they were dealt. The sacrifices our fathers made are why you’re sitting in this apartment today, drinking tasteless five-dollar seltzer teas, and worrying about how you look in front of a dude with zero personality. Not a lot of people have that luxury.”
“Okay, if you’re done evangelizing for the Masterson-King shit show, I’d like to be left alone now. I need to prepare for work.”
“You mean you need to prepare for the job that pays your rent? Oh wait, no, your Daddy the criminal pays your rent, doesn’t he? Oh wait, no, your uncle the criminal owns the building.”
I can’t believe I found this jerk attractive a few minutes ago. He’s a total butt and has not one redeeming quality.
“Shut up and get off of my deck.”
“What time do you have to be at work?”
“None of your business.”
“It is if I’m driving you.”
“I’m fine taking the bus or an Uber.”
“Let me put it this way, I’m not fine with it, so I’m driving you to work and that’s non-negotiable.”
We stare at each other for a prolonged moment.
“I take back what I said earlier. It seems as if you haven’t changed much at all,” I tell him. “Unfortunately, you’re just like I remembered.”