Page 166 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B
My eyes are probably doing some weird shit. Narrowing. Widening. Squinting. I don’t fucking know.
I’ve got nothing.
Every word inside me is dust.
I’m so empty of thoughts.
I swallow again and again,
my mouth starving to say something.
Anything.
And he’s still staring at me, waiting.
Then—
I’m laughing.
And laughing.
“Oh my God…”
My head tips back,
my laugh crumbling into a groan.
“This whole thing between us? Yeah. This feels like Midnights-era insanity.” I jab a finger into his chest. “Same damn record that keeps comin’ back, new cover, no idea when to stop.” Another laugh buckles out of me. “Ooh—let’s draft a new contract,” I mock in my best Jersey boy voice. “At a goddamn pool hall. We don’t need no lawyer, pen, or coffee. Why when we got stripes, solids, and stares from all the pussy you’ve licked?”
“Jesus—” he flicks his eyes sideways,
pinching the bridge of his nose.
My patience wears thin,
and I drop my head to the side.
“My life a joke to you, Drew?”
His brows slant upward.
“Allison—c’mon. No.
“This ain’t a fuckin’ joke to me.”
He closes the space, his hand finding mine and threading our fingers together. He tugs me closer, his thigh against my thigh. I glance away, and he tilts his head, following me until I’m trapped in his eyes again.
“I wanna be with you,” he says, closer, his next words landing warm on my lips, “Fuck—I wanna be with you.
“But I’m not one of your Boys.
“I can’t be. You already know.
“You tried tellin’ me from the start, and I didn’t wanna hear it, didn’t wanna let this go. And I ain’t draggin’ you and me into somethin’ that’s settin’ us up to crash and burn in the end either.”
My eyes narrow. “Wow. You’re dead serious right now, aren’t you? Like you’re not fuckin’ around.” A shaky breath leaves me. “You actually wanna write a new contract right now.”
His thumb slides over my knuckles. “I got the fine print pulled up. It’s all black and white, no bullshit. All it needs? Our rules, the ones we make together. From the top.”
