Suddenly, a whole different kind of panic set in—the kind that had nothing to do with weed and everything to do with him.

From the kitchen, Tiffany and Jamal were still going at it.

“Tiffany, I don’t get what your problem is!” Jamal’s voice was exasperated, almost pleading.

“You breathe too loud!”

Blake let out a low chuckle against my neck, his warm breath sending goosebumps along my skin.

I exhaled shakily, my fingers threading into the short hair at the nape of his neck. “How are you feeling?”

He hummed lazily, his voice a soft whisper against my skin. “You always smelled this good?”

My heart pounded so hard I swore he could hear it. He was slurring from the high, his words half-lost against my skin, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I had heard him right or if my mind was simply playing tricks on me.

“No,” I said, my voice barely a breath. “You’re just high.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat, something between a hum and a sigh. His hands slowly slid to the small of my back, his fingers pressing into my skin with an intensity that made me breathe harder. And then, without warning, his lips brushed against the curve of my neck.

I couldn’t think straight; the weed had me buzzing, and he was an intoxicating force all on his own. “Blake,” I breathed, the sound of his name escaping my lips like a plea.

It was barely a kiss, just the faintest touch of his mouth against my skin. But it was enough to make my heart race, to make me freeze, to make everything inside me feel like it was shifting into something I didn’t know how to handle. My hands started shaking as I felt his lips linger there, soft and almost apologetic, like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

I didn’t know.

“If we weren’t Blake and Beverly,” he muttered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t place, “what would it be like…?”

Before I could answer, his lips brush against my skin again, soft and slow, just above my collarbone.

My breath hitched. My heart nearly stopped. “Blake⁠—”

“Shhh,” Blake murmured. “If we weren’t Blake and Beverly, would you want this?”

I swallowed hard, my mind clouded. I felt the question settle deep in my chest, curling around something I had spent years trying to ignore. “Blake…” I hesitated, unsure of what he was really asking. This wasn’t fair. Not here, not now. “What… What are you saying?”

“If we were different people. If nothing was messy. If we weren’t tangled up in things that couldn’t be undone. If it was just us. Would you?”