As me and Jessica fled the scene, we headed for the cliff-side gardens overlooking the beach. We found a pavilion and took a pew on the bench there. Jessica asked me to roll a spliff, a request to which I gladly obliged. I skin up and we sat, puffing away, drinking more cognac. “I still can’t believe you fucking squirted all over my jeans” I said, laughing as I passed her the joint. “They’ll dry off, and besides, you’ll n...