"Here," Daryl said, dragging me from my thoughts, as he tossed a candy bar onto my lap. "Got you a Snickers." His cheeks reddened and he shrugged. "Didn’t know if it was still your favorite kind of chocolate –"

"It is," I replied, feeling ridiculously touched by his small gesture. "Thank you."

He cleared his throat. "No problem."

"So…" Desperate to keep the mood light – and keep him with me – I reached for the pile of goodies he'd brought over. "Candy. Chips. Beer. A baggy of what I can only assume is weed?" Leaning forward on my elbows, I arched a teasing brow at him and waved the bag of weed in front of his face. "Why, King Doofus, are you proposing we do a Lana Del Rey and get high by the beach?"

Smirking, he placed his hands on either side of me and leaned in. "Actually Molly-Dolly, I was thinking more along the lines of Netflix and chill."

Thrown off kilter by his cocky reply, I shook my head and chuckled nervously. "You're such a douche."

He was joking.

Just joking.

Jesus, relax, woman!

Get a grip.

Grinning, Daryl snatched the baggy from my fingertips and quickly pocketed it. "Actually, that was an accident." He winked and patted his pocket. "Didn’t mean to bring that over here. Wouldn’t want to extend my record of corrupting you. Did enough of that when we were kids."

I snorted. "Like you could."

"Have you ever smoked?"

I opened my mouth to give him a smart-ass answer, but fell short. "Well…no."

Daryl chuckled softly. "See. Bad influence."

"Well, you don’t exactly strike me as a pothead yourself, mister hotshot quarterback."

"Because I'm not."

"Uh-huh." I rolled my eyes. "So, you just happen to carry a baggy of weed around with you because –"

"Because I happen to live with a cop who enjoys snooping around in my room and finding reasons to screw me over and ruin my chances at Alabama State next year almost as much as he enjoys making my life a living hell."

"Wretched," I offered, scrunching my nose up at the thought of Daryl's douchebag stepdad. "Yeah, I heard he made sheriff." A shudder rolled through me. "The town couldn’t have picked a more crooked cop to head up the police department."

Daryl gave me a strange look.

"What?" I asked, feeling exposed. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, lips twitching in a small smile. "I was just thinking about how much I've missed this." He shook his head and looked away. "About how much I've missed you, Molls."

"Yeah, D." I felt my face grow hot from his admission. "Me too."

23 Daryl

Fuck if I knew what I was doing here.

Molly's house was the very last place I should have come, but like the habit of a lifetime, when shit went down with Wren, I ran straight to her.

My home life was all kinds of messed up, and just like every night from birth to the age of ten, I sought out the girl that had provided a safe haven from the bullshit.