Page 56 of River & Rue

“Maybe. Not on purpose. I was trying to… Eureka!”

I chuckle. “Is it gold?”

She turns, grinning. “Better.”

When I see the metal tin resting on her extended palms, my smile turns to ice, along with my blood. I stand up and close the distance between us in two long strides.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t open that.”

But I already know the answer. It’s in her pupils, too dilated for the amount of light in the room. Fuck. No wonder she’s acting crazy.

Rue’s smile ebbs. “What do you mean? It’s one of Kirk’s hidden stashes. Remember? He said if we found one, we could have what was inside. See?”

She opens the airtight tin to reveal a sealed plastic bag containing three small aluminum-foil wrapped squares.

“River? Why are you looking at me like that?”

I make a split-second decision—the only one I possibly can. Wiping the worry off my face, I force my shoulders to relax. Smiling, I hold out my hand.

“Can I have that?”

She gives me the tin. I tuck it into the pocket of my shorts, then lift my hands to frame her face. Her eyes widen, moving rapidly between mine, but she doesn’t pull away. As I stroke my thumbs over her jaw, her breath shudders from her parted lips. Her pupils flare wider. I steel myself against more irrefutable evidence of how much my touch affects her.

Though I can hardly believe it, the current issue is even more delicate and urgent.

“I need you to listen very carefully. Can you do that for me?”

She nods.

“I’ve got you, okay? No matter what, you’re going to be fine. You’re completely safe.”

“That’s really nice, thanks. But to be honest with you, the face holding and eye contact make it creepy.”

I exhale a soundless laugh. “Can you trust me, Rue? Do you believe me when I say I’ll keep you safe?”

“Yes.”

The word is without hesitation or artifice, like her trust and my trustworthiness are two halves of one truth. I stare at her, speechless with relief and a dozen other feelings I don’t have the time to puzzle through right now.

She taps me on the nose. “Boop.”

A startled laugh leaves me, and her fingertip presses to my cheek.

“Dimple boop.”

I desperately want to kiss her. Denying the impulse feels unnatural, especially when I lick my lips and her eyes track the movement.

“Let’s stay on track.” The reminder is mostly for me, but she nods. “Next question. Do you feel kind of strange right now? Maybe your skin is extra sensitive, or colors are more vivid?”

Rue looks from side to side, then up and down. When her eyes come back to mine, I know she understands. Her fingers bite into my wrists.

“River…?”

I nod. “It wasn’t a weed gummy. Have you taken LSD before?”

“No. I thought… oh, fuck. I’m so stupid. They didn’t look like regular gummies, but I thought⁠—”

She gasps for air, her eyes glassy.