Page 78 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

Seriously. Full-blown dumbass.

Hot, heart-eyed, got-no-brain kinda stupid. Who hears “I fucked someone else” and responds with, “Sure, take me to your penthouse, milady.”

Andrew Harding, the fool.

Which is horrifying, honestly.

If that didn’t push him away…

how far do I have to go?

How many guys will I have to fuck?

There’s only one option.

Murder.

Manslaughter, if I’m lucky.

He won’t go on his own,

so it’s either kill him, marry him, or die.

And stabbing him is the safest option.

I don’t even want him.

Except I do.

But only if I never have to watch him leave me.

So yeah. This all makes perfect sense.

The elevator’s up ahead.

Left foot. Right foot.

If I don’t keep walking, I’ll chicken out, yell see ya sucker and make a run for it, slide into the elevator Risky-Business style and pound the close button, barricading the elevator doors like I’m hiding from the fucking feds.

The elevator dings,

waking me from my plan.

The doors slide open.

Andrew follows me in.

I press myself into the corner,

spine hitting the back wall.

He stands close,

his chest rising faster than mine.

He’s not touching me, but I still feel him everywhere, as if he slipped a song under my skin on the very first night, and now the beat replays whenever he’s near.

His dark eyes fall to my mouth,