“That’s it? You’re not staying?” She seems confused again.

“I’m not going to push you more than I have, Charlene. I know what happens when I do, and I’m not willing to take that risk.” I pull her to me. All her broken pieces and bent edges fit with mine. “Call me when you figure out what you want.” I inhale the scent of her shampoo and press my lips to her skin for the briefest moment before I untangle myself.

I don’t want to leave, but I can’t stay—not unless she’s ready to let me in all the way. Luther is on the front step when I open the door, staring out at the neighbor’s yard. There’s an older woman in a pair of booty shorts weeding the garden. I’m pretty sure it’s for Luther’s benefit. He’s a good looking motherfucker.

“Wait!” Charlene grabs my arm and yanks me back inside. She pauses to wave at Luther before she closes the door in his face.

I stare down at her. Even with her messy hair and wrinkled outfit, she’s flawlessly flawed. It doesn’t matter if she tells me the only reason she wants me to stay is because the apocalypse is coming; there’s a reasonably good chance I’ll say yes.

She grips my shirt as if it will keep me from moving. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Then give me a reason to stay.”

She stares at her feet—her toenail polish is chipped—and slowly looks back up. “Can we ease into this?”

“You can’t lube up for moving in.”

She rolls her eyes at my terrible joke. “I wasn’t expecting this. I was ready to deal with the feelings part of us, but then you blindsided me with the whole moving-in thing.”

“I figured I might as well lay it all out there for you, so you know where I’m at.”

She chews her bottom lip and nods. “I can’t give up my night with Violet and the girls. They come over to my place, and we hang out and stuff, and if I live with you, we’ll have to do that at your place.”

“Those are the same nights I’m out with the guys, and we never come to my place.”

“Maybe that should change.”

“Do I need to remind you what happened the last time they ended up at my place?”

She manages to blush and give me the evil eye at the same time. “I don’t want to sell my house right away.”

“Property is a smart investment. You can rent it out indefinitely.” I run my fingers through her hair, the need to touch her too overwhelming not to give in. “Whatever you need to make you feel safe, Charlene, you can have it. If you need a house in your own name, then keep it. But don’t expect me not to buy you things. You’re everything I need, and I’m going to give you everything I think you need.”

Charlene seems to fight back a sob as she wraps her arms around my neck. “I love you, in case you weren’t sure.”

“I hoped.” I press my lips to hers for a moment and then pull away. I slip my hand into my pocket and retrieve the necklace I’ve been carrying with me the past few days. I went in search of all the fallen pearls after her mother took her home and brought them to a jeweler the very next day. I picked up the necklace three days ago and have been carrying it around with me ever since.

Charlene’s eyes soften, and a lone tear slides down her cheek as I clasp it behind her neck.

“I love you more than you can comprehend. I’ll give you anything you want, Charlene. Just stay with me, let me love you like I’m supposed to, let me be exactly what you need.”

“You already are.”

I kiss her, and my whole world seems to come together and fall apart at the same time. She’s everything. She’s all the missing pieces I need to feel whole.

CHARLENE

Darren and I don’t make it farther than the kitchen counter before we’re naked and all over each other. Make-up-slash-love-declaration sex is the best. Not that I want to have more arguments or breakups, but love declaration only happens once. All the anxiety and stress of the past week is erased by each kiss and touch. I believe Darren when he says he’ll never put the lid on my jar. He’s always been exactly what I need, and now that he knows about all the good and bad parts of me, it feels like he’s truly mine.

An hour later we’re stretched out on the couch in the living room. Darren has on boxers, and I’m wearing the shirt he arrived in. The rest of our clothes are scattered around the kitchen. I reach into the bowl next to me and unwrap a candy. I’m already relaxed, thanks to all the orgasms, but I’m a little hungry post sex, and too lazy to go to the kitchen for a snack. And too comfortable wrapped up in Darren.

I pop the candy in my mouth and settle back against his chest. I toss the wrapper, aiming for the coffee table, but I miss, and it flutters to the floor.

Darren reaches down and picks it up, inspecting the opaque square. “What kind of candy is this?”

“It’s herbal.” I pull myself up a little higher so I can kiss his neck. His skin is salty in contrast to the sweetness in my mouth.

He twists a little so his mouth is close to mine and sniffs while frowning. “Where’d you get them?”

“My mom makes them.” I don’t usually eat them when I’m with Darren, since I like the kind of anxiety he evokes in me.

Darren curves his palm around the side of my neck and presses his lips to mine. When his tongue sweeps out I part my lips, allowing him inside. He strokes against my tongue a few times before he pulls back, still frowning. He repositions us so we’re sitting up. “Stick your tongue out for me.”

“What?”

“Your tongue, stick it out.”

“They’re an acquired taste,” I mumble, but I do as he asks, the candy sitting on the end of my tongue.

He pops it in his mouth, rolling it around, which could be kind of gross since it’s been in my mouth, but then again, he does put his tongue in there, among other places.

After a few seconds he spits it into the wrapper. “How often do you eat these?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Usually a few a day.”

His eyes go wide. “A few a day? How long have you been eating these?”

I don’t understand why he’s so shocked. “I don’t know. My mom has been making them as long as I can remember.”

I didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to be any wider. “You ate these as a kid?”

“They’re calming.” Now I’m defensive about it. I love these candies.

“Uh, yeah, they would be since I think they’re made from weed.”

“No they’re not,” I scoff.

“I’m pretty sure they are. How do you think they get that green tinge to them?”

“They’re herbal.”

“And the herb they’re made with is weed.”

“How would you know that? You’re not allowed to use recreational drugs,” I point out.

“Correct, but I’ve spent enough time around Alex’s dad to know what weed smells like, since he’s a chronic pothead.” He doesn’t say anything else, possibly waiting for me to process this information.

I have to cover my mouth with my palm since I’m incapable of closing it. The greenhouses at The Harvest Co-op, aka The Ranch, flash through my mind—endless rows of gorgeous green plants, the smell of skunks, the barbed-wire fence, how we were located out in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere. All of it suddenly makes sense.

“Holy fuck,” I say from behind my hand as the truth settles in. “Oh my God. My mother turned me into a pothead.”

“Maybe there isn’t any THC in them,” Darren offers.

I think about how I’ve been this week—all the candies I’ve eaten and how much I’ve been zoned out and napping like it’s my job. How many donuts I’ve consumed.

I consider how I’m relaxed for hours after I eat those candies, and how they always seem to heighten that tingly feeling in my body, particularly the one between my thighs when I’m nervous. I have to wonder if they’re somehow related.

I almost always have one with my tea right before I go to bed when I’m at home. I can still sleep like the dead—the flaily dead—even with all my afternoon naps.

I drop my hand from my mouth. “I’m a pothead.”

“There are a lot worse things to be.”

“I’ve been carrying those around with me everywhere. I’ve taken them on planes, Darren! Oh my God, what if I’d been arrested? My mother is my dealer!”

Then it dawns on me that Darren had one in his mouth. “Shit. Now you have weed in your system! What if you test positive at the next drug test?”

“It’s off season. There aren’t any mandatory tests anytime soon, and I had, like, three sucks of a candy.”

A little of the unease dissipates, but it fires right back up. “What if I’d offered them to Sunny and Violet? They’re both pregnant!”

“You haven’t given them any, have you? Or any of the guys?”

“Well, no, my mom said it was best not to share them, but I could’ve ignored her, and then I’d be feeding a baby weed, or ruining NHL careers!” I’m starting to feel lightheaded even though I’m sitting down. “I need to get rid of them!”

“Whoa.” Darren grabs my arm before I can reach the bowl of candies. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw those out.”

“Well, I can’t keep them now that I know what they are!”