My head lolled on the back of the couch, my arms heavy and my head thick. I’d worry about selling the rest of the bag over the weekend.

I wondered whether Aubrey would expect some sort of boyfriend crap. I’d been inside her, laid my heart on the ground at her feet, yet I never knew what to do around her. She had me second-guessing everything.

God, when had I become such a chick about this shit?

I still had things I had to do, and as much as I wanted to spend all of my time with Aubrey, that couldn’t happen.

Now that I was thinking about her, I couldn’t stop. Even as f**ked-up as I was—unable to move my limbs, my body weighted down, and stoned out of my mind—my heart slammed madly in my chest at the memory of her face. A goofy smile stretched my lips as I thought about how easy it was to be myself around her, the person I had almost forgotten how to be.

“Yo, Maxx, let me in!” a voice yelled from the other side of the door, followed by a pounding that rattled my skull.

There was no way I was getting my ass up off the couch. Fuck whoever wanted in. They needed to take a number.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the persistent knocking.

“I will kick this door down if you don’t open up!” the voice threatened.

Fuck me, chill out already.

I slowly got to my feet and sluggishly made my way to the door.

Marco shoved past me the moment I opened the door. “What the hell, man? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days!” Marco scowled as he made his way into my apartment. He headed straight for my bedroom.

The f**ker had serious issues with personal boundaries.

I was having a major problem seeing straight. I knew I should be worried by Marco’s aggressive entrance, but like every time I was doped up, I couldn’t summon the energy to care.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched Marco pull out my bedside drawer, rooting around until he found the baggie of pills I had put there. He held them up to the light and started counting.

“Make yourself at home,” I slurred, swinging my hand out in front of me in a sweeping gesture.

Marco tossed the bag onto the bed and advanced toward me. My mouth was frozen in a lazy smile, which I could tell pissed Marco off.

He grabbed me by the front of my shirt and shook me. I tried to shove him off but with no success.

“What the f**k?” I mumbled, trying to get away from him.

“You’ve been taking them, haven’t you? You’re supposed to be selling them, not eating the shit for breakfast!” he yelled into my face.

Marco was a scary dude to most people. But I remembered him when he wore his pants around his knees, was covered in acne, and had no game whatsoever. He’d been a joke. Now he liked to think of himself as a badass. But a few years of weightlifting and covering his face in metal didn’t erase the fact that he used to be the biggest douche on the planet.

“Don’t start with your goddamned lectures. If I wanted advice, I wouldn’t be asking for it from the guy who let some cracked-out chick pierce his junk with a needle,” I said with a smirk, shoving Marco hard in the chest and sending him stumbling backward.

Even f**ked-up out of my mind, I could still take him. I grabbed my dick crudely and flipped him off. I went to the bed and picked up the baggie, shoving it back in the drawer.

“Stay the f**k out of my stuff,” I warned, pointing at him with a wobbly finger.

Marco sneered, stretching his lips in an ugly grin.

“So what’s your great plan, Maxx? How the f**k are you going to make the money back so Gash won’t shove your nose up your own ass**le? Come on, tell me your latest stroke of genius! I’m dying here.” Marco flopped down on the bed and put his muddy combat boots up on my sheets. Not that they were clean or anything, but I didn’t appreciate him messing up my shit.

“Get your boots off my bed, man,” I told him, though my voice sounded weak in my ears. Messed up and wanting a nap was not the way to have a confrontation. I could barely keep my eyes open. Marco was seriously screwing with my high. I’d have to kick his ass for that later.

Marco ignored my comment as he continued to regard me. “Look at you, Maxx. You are f**ked-up. If Gash saw you like this, you’d be wearing your rib cage as a hat. What the hell is up with you?” he asked, sounding a mixture of angry and concerned.

When it came down to it, for all his shank-you-in-the-gut skinhead act, he was just looking out for me. Marco and I had been friends for years. We went back a long way. And we’d always had each other’s backs. It was because of Marco that I landed the extremely well-paying job I had to begin with, a job that allowed me to take care of my brother, keep a roof over my head, and pay for school.

“I’ll charge double,” I offered with a shrug, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

Marco barked out a laugh. “Are you f**king with me?” he asked incredulously.

I frowned. I had thought it was a good idea.

“Why is that so funny?”

Marco snorted. “Dude, there are enough people slinging around this city, you charging double for midgrade pills won’t make you a cent. It won’t make Gash the money he expects. You, my friend, are a f**king moron.”

“You don’t know shit, Marco. You just sit at the door and tell the chicks if they look pretty and leave the hard stuff to me,” I derided.

Marco’s face darkened. He dropped his feet down to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t f**k around. You’re not just messing up stuff for you, but for me too. What do you think will happen if Gash figures out you’re taking more than you’re selling, that you don’t have the money to give him?” Marco got to his feet and started pacing, something he did when he was ready to lose it.