Page 43 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

eyes coming back to me,

staying on me the rest of the way⁠—

hot, heavy, holding me still.

The bar’s still throwing insults around.

I’m wearing the most hated team in this room, spitting in the face of the Giants, flipping off the whole damn bar, including him.

I thought this’d repulse him⁠—

me waltzing into the Draft Room in Eagles colors, begging for a stabbing. It should’ve been enough to not meet me at the door.

But he’s still making his way through the crowd, set on me, on us, the only team he’s rooting for.

And the closer he gets,

the faster everything else goes under:

the trash talk, the bar, the music.

Only Andrew remains,

wetting his lip as he walks⁠—

all hips and heat and fuck-me cadence.

Until he’s in front of me,

his scent circling.

He takes my hand

and dips his head slow

‘til his nose brushes mine,

mouth stalling at my lips,

just shy of kissing me.

He’s so fucking close,

it hurts my chest⁠—

mouth hovering,

breath warm,

body close,

driving me insane.

And he just waits.

One second,

and I feel the way his breath cuts out,