Page 116 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B
Then he spins, spotting my shoes,
grabbing those too.
“Drew, you can do this.
“Just let it go. I’ll clean it tomorrow.”
He stumbles in behind me, muscles flexing against the cold, laughter punching out of him, wild and unhinged.
The door shuts.
Then he points behind him like we left someone out there. “I gotta go back.”
“What? No, you’re soaked.”
He turns to the window.
“You don’t get it. I—I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” He looks down at me, eyes glassy. “There’s red wine on the stone, Allison. Red wine. You want that shit settin’ in the grout?”
Snow taps against the glass as we stand there. I take the corkscrew from his arms. “You’ll get sick if you do.”
“I know, but—”
He motions to the hot tub,
towel-drying his hair.
“I’m sorry, Drew.
“You don’t have a choice.”
We’re tracking water everywhere,
dripping all over the marble floors.
His hair’s curling at the ends,
shoulders hunched.
We’re both dizzy, shivering,
stupid, flushed,
stumbling into my bedroom
like two drunks in love,
laugh still hanging off our lips.
And when I open the bedroom door—
he stops,
not expecting New York
to crash back into him.
The entire wall’s glass, as if someone carved a corner out of Manhattan and dropped it into his hands.
