"Juliette, I'm sorry. Angel, are you okay? I didn't mean to startle. I won't do that again. Promise."

Griffin reaches down and helps me up, as if I'm a child. The look in his eyes is so kind and beautiful that I can't square the reality of who he truly is.

Of what I just discovered.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He seems genuinely concerned, which hurts my heart.

Shaking, I brush sand off my butt. I need time to think about what to say and I can't look into his honey-colored eyes without my stomach clenching. "Let's...let's swim and watch the sunset," I stammer.

Walking the few steps to the water, I dive underneath when it's deep enough. If only I could swim away. I imagine shooting through the water, getting swept away by the Gulf Stream.

I surface and slick my hair back. Griffin's standing nearby. I try to touch bottom with my feet, but I can't, so I tread lightly. He grabs my wrist and pulls me through the water, into him. I'm not a great swimmer so I don't want to struggle.

"Put your arms around me. Yeah. Like that."

Little droplets cling to his muscular shoulders and I fight the irrational urge to lick his skin. I spot a red mark at the base of his neck. I shiver, recalling how I'd bitten him there in the middle of the night when the sensation of his touch became too much.

"You have a weird look on your face. What's up?"

My arms are loosely around his neck. Bobbing in the water, he and I are eye-level.

"You know how you said I could ask you anything?"

"Yeah." His little smile is killing me. Ugh. How can a drug dealer look so adorable?

"Wait. Wrap your legs around me. Use me as a floatation device."

I take a deep breath. Should I say nothing and feign sickness? Ask to go home? If tell him what I know, will he drown me?

No, he wouldn't do that. He's too good. At least I think so. I take a deep breath. "I walked inside to charge my phone and heard you talking. About selling drugs. Pills."

Jesus, my heart almost stops when she says the words selling drugs.

My eyes scan the blue water, the sugar-sand beach, the swaying palm trees. The picture-perfect postcard of it all. Then I turn back to Juliette and look into her green eyes, which are seemingly glowing and emerald-like against the blue of the water. As much as instinct tells me to lie, I know I can't.

I've been hoping we could ignore this little fact about me, at least for this weekend. But no. Time's up.

"You want the truth?"

"Yes."

I draw her an inch closer and try to be matter of fact. "Fine. I sell drugs. Molly. Ecstasy. MDMA. Whatever you wanna call it."

She shakes her head. "Are you kidding?"

"No."

"Like a few pills to a couple of people every so often?" She swallows hard.

"No. A lot of pills to a lot of people. Millions of dollars worth."

Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. And her huge eyes, they're showing fear and revulsion.

Exactly what I was afraid of. Fuck. She's going to hate me after this. She wiggles out of my arms, and I let her go. She doesn't swim away, but looks like she's struggling to tread water. I grab her again and pull her close.

"Listen. Please listen. I do this for a reason. Started doing this for a reason."

"I can't imagine a reason good enough." The disgust is clear in her voice.

I sigh. "I started selling when I was in high school. It's how Zoe and I survived."

"Oh God, Griffin." She's hugging me now, hard. I don't say anything for a few long seconds, the water making little splashing noises around us. I take a few steps into more shallow water while she's still attached to me. .

Her eyes are rimmed with red, just like the sky. We've missed the sunset. The water ripples around us, a shimmering blue.

"I don't tell many people. And I didn't want to tell you because the less you know, the better."

"What do you mean? Can we get out of the water and talk?"

I wade toward shore while holding her, and when we're in shallow water, set her down and we walk to the beach. As we towel off, I'm relieved she's not running away, screaming.

How do I explain everything to her? How do I explain the allure of a stack of cash, the power that comes with plastic baggies filled with powder, the swell of pride when I paid for Zoe's freshman year of college in full?

I sink onto the chaise and she sits next to me, the towel wrapped tight around her body. Her teeth are chattering.

"Are you cold?"

She shakes her head.

"You're scared."

She nods and stares at the sand.

"There's nothing to be scared of. I'm not going to hurt you. Ever. That night we were in the bookstore, I assumed you'd figured it all out. Especially after being in the club with me. And after seeing my house and car and bike and..." My voice trails off.

She looks up at the sky. "I did wonder. Everything makes sense now. What your sister said, what my brother said." She twists to look at me. "I have a lot of questions."

This won't end well, I can tell right now. "Okay."

"Why were you talking on the phone about drug dealing? Isn't that dangerous?"

"I don't call it that. I sell product. It's a business. We use burner phones to discuss sales."

She frowns. "Hunh?"

"Burner phones. Pre-paid phones that I can toss. I have a permanent number for Zoe. You have that number, too."

"Who is 'we'?"

I sigh. "You don't need to know."

"Aren't you worried that your house is, like, bugged? By police?"

"I use anti-bugging equipment. It's pretty high tech."

I can tell her mind is spinning as she rakes her sexy-as-hell bottom lip between her teeth.

"Does Ash know?"

This is the hardest question so far. "It's why we stopped being friends. He thought I was being asshole by selling molly. But it was the easiest way to make money and stay in school. To care for Zoe. To stay together."

"And that's why Ash stopped talking to Zoe." Her normally melodic voice is shaky and low.

"Yep."

"Why couldn't you get a regular job?"

"Would you be able to live alone on what you make at the diner?"

"I guess not," she mumbles. "But why didn't you stop when you turned eighteen and could legally be Zoe's guardian? I don't get it. Zoe could have taken out loans for college. You could have as well."

"I dropped out of UM, Juliette. I was making more money selling drugs than anything I'd do with a college degree. Fucked up, but true."

Her shoulders sag. "Regardless. Why didn't you stop when you had enough money?"

I scrub my face with my hands. "Because there is never enough money. Because of the lifestyle. I love the money. Loved, maybe past tense, shit, I don't know. The cars. The clubs. The VIP rooms and the parties and the women."

Christ, I shouldn't have said that last part. I open my eyes to see her bottom lip quivering. She scoots away from me. "So why are you with me? Am I a novelty, something different from all the women you're used to screwing?"

I want to take her in my arms but her body language is screaming for me to stay away. So I move a little more to the edge of the chaise, to give us more distance.

"No. You're not a diversion." I rub my forehead and stare at my feet digging into the sand.

"Than what am I?" I glance up and the look in her eyes is sharp enough to pulverize rocks.

"I- I know what I want you to be."

Her gaze softens. "What?"

How do I tell her this? How do I say that for the first time, I want to care for someone other than Zoe? That I can't stop thinking about her, and love being around her? That I feel possessive of her?

"I want you to be my...mine." I stare at my hands and press the palms together. I've never said these words. "My girlfriend."

"How many do you have?"

I shake my head. "I've never had one before. You'd be my first."

"Why? Oh." She inhales sharply. "You always just fucked women. No relationships."

Hearing her say fucked in that context makes my chest tighten. "When you put it that way it sounds pretty shitty."

She twists her mouth and shrugs, as if to say, no kidding, asshole.

"I don't know what to say. What am I supposed to do with this information? You're a drug dealer."

I nod slowly. "That I am."

"Are you proud of that fact?" Her voice is an octave higher.

"Pride has nothing to do with it. It's a business."

"Where do you get them, or it, or whatever, from? How do you sell it?"

"The pills? The product? I'm not telling you any of that. You don't need to know. It's not your business."

She nods slowly, as if trying to take it all in. I should be worried about her going to the police, but somehow, I'm not. I trust her, and maybe that's a massive mistake. Maybe this is all a huge fucking mistake.

"Have you ever been violent with anyone? Do you carry a gun?"

"Not answering that."

She blinks rapidly. "Are you worried that you're killing people, the people who buy from you? That they'll die when they take your drugs?" Tears threaten to spill over her bottom lids.

I stare at her, unblinking. "Do you know how many people die from alcohol-related causes?"

She shakes her head.

"Close to ninety thousand every year in this country. And do you know how many people die from opioid pills each year? Things like oxycodone, fentanyl, hydrocodone?"

She frowns and shakes her head.

"Sixty-four thousand."

"And how many from what you... from molly?"

"About fifty. Five zero. Most are because they took other drugs at the same time, or drank a shitload while taking it"

She curls her lip. "So of all the drugs you could sell, this is the safest? The most ethical? You're a drug dealer with a conscience?"

"Funny. Something like that. Look, I don't sell coke or heroin. I make sure my shit's pure and not cut with poison. I don't sell prescription pills, even though that's where the real money is. You know there are thousands of doctors who get people hooked on those, right? And those pills are manufactured by legal pharmaceutical companies. Entire parts of the country are fucked because of the opioid pill problem. You know that?"

She shudders in a breath. "I saw something about it on TV. What if you get arrested?"

I flop back on the chaise. "I haven't yet. I take calculated risks."

"But what if you do?"

"It's the chance I take. I have a good lawyer and a lot of cash in offshore accounts. It's also why I'm trying to buy some legit businesses. So I can slowly get the fuck out. It's stressful."

She stretches out next to me, a hopeful look on her face. "You trying to stop?"

I roll onto my side. A wet strand of hair is stuck to her cheek. I brush it back. "Yeah. I am. And now I have incentive to move a little faster."

"What's the incentive?" Her face is blank.

"You."

She looks around, as if in disbelief. "You'd do that for me? Why? I don't understand."

"I don't know if I understand, either. My feelings for you, they don't make sense."

"Could it be just sex?"

I roll my eyes. "You're smart. You're gorgeous. You like to laugh. You make me laugh. I can be myself around you. Sex has nothing to do with it."

She gives me the side-eye.

"Okay, sex as a little to do with it. But I get it if you don't want anything to do with me after this, though."

Why do I feel like shit even saying those words? She puts her index finger on my lips.

"That's the problem. I do. I want everything to do with you."

We stare at each other, unblinking. I take her hand and kiss her fingers.

"Do you take it a lot?" she asks in a hushed tone.

"What? Molly?"

She nods.

"I don't take my own shit, or anything else. I can't afford to be fucked up. I took molly once. When I was eighteen at Ultra Music Fest. Avicii was about to do a set and I was rolling hard. Then Madonna came on stage and asked, has anyone seen molly? The whole festival went crazy."

She scrutinizes my face. "Really? What did taking it feel like?"

"You know how the drug MDMA works, don't you?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay. Time for a pharmaceutical lesson. Your first, since that's your college major. Until I can convince you to change it to English." I look at her and smile, and thank Christ she's smiling a little, too.

"MDMA, which is short for methylenedioxy-methamphetamine, changes the way your nerve cells in your brain communicate." I tap my finger to her forehead. "It increases the levels of serotonin and dopamine in your brain. Serotonin then triggers oxytocin and vasopressin. Do you know what they do? Do you know what happens when those hormones are released?"

"No. I don't."

"Those are the hormones of emotion, the ones that allow people to trust. To feel lust. To fall in love."

She blinks.

"So, Juliette. What did the drug feel like? It felt like being in that club last month, with you. It felt like this morning when I woke up and you were sleeping in my arms. This entire weekend, with you. That's how it made me feel. And I don't want this feeling to ever end."

____