Page 565 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B
I know it’s written all over me now.
I know I fucking reek of this shit.
Once I fell in love with Andrew Harding, I fell in love completely.
“Allison, you don’t fuckin’ get it. You could break me into a thousand fuckin’ pieces, and I’d still crawl back to you,” he says, with his heart hanging out of him too. “I’m never fuckin’ leavin’ you.”
For a moment
those words settle warm in me.
They should make me feel better.
I turn my attention back to the view.
“You wanna know something funny?”
A harsh breath punches out of him.
“No.”
I lift the bottle.
“The more you kiss someone…
“The more you fuck ‘em…
“the longer you’re with ‘em…
“the less intense it becomes.”
His face hardens. “Allison—”
“No, seriously. It’s science. I Googled it.”
“Please don’t do this.”
“No,” I snap. “I’m talking. Be a good boy and stay quiet. You’re good at that.”
He tips his head back,
fingers to his temples.
“It’s called the Coolidge effect.” I point the bottle at him. “It means mammals get bored fucking the same mammal. Doesn’t matter how good it is, how you feel about them, the high drops. The body gets used to it. Intensity fades. It all cyclones down the drain. Like T-Pain.” I twirl my finger. “Rew, rew, rew, rew…”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
He drags a hand over his mouth.
I shrug.
“Yeah. You’ll always want new shit—
“A new first kiss, new first touch,
“new pussy to eat,
“new girl moaning your name.
