She shrugs, her smile tipsy against her straw.
I blink.
Just blink.
Then drop my head, biting the inside of my cheek so hard it might bleed.
Nico freezes. “Shit,” he mutters. “That came in hot.”
Jay pulls his hood lower.
Andrew’s smiling, arm stretched across the backrest like he's thinking—Universe really said: yeah, him. Fuck his life up. Right now.
Red Lips leaves, and I just sit here.
Unbreathing. Unblinking. Unwell… Un.
I don’t do anything but stare at the crowd,
wondering how the fuck I got here,
sitting in a booth full of strangers,
some chick with purple hair creeping her ass back on Andrew again,
and I’m over here playing mannequin.
I tilt my head?—
Hold up.
Did I for real get hit by that bus?
Did I die? Is this my Hell?
I look around.
Talia’s nails skim Andrew’s collarbone.
Then she leans in close, breath at his ear.
“Tell me, baby… you go down on her?
“The same way you do me?”
It’s Hell. Definitely Hell.
And if it’s not,
someone go ahead and open the floorboards.
I’ll climb down myself.
Andrew mutters low in her ear.
Talia buries her smile in his shoulder.
“Don’t act like last time wasn’t fire, baby…
