Then his smile dies.
“And no more showin' up at my house unannounced. That shit ain't cool.”
My eyes go wide.
Okay. This is happening. Right now.
I slide a book off the shelf.
Open it. Hum. Pretend I’m reading.
Page is upside down. Doesn’t matter.
I can’t see Elle’s face, but I don’t need to.
I can hear it?—
the blink, the processing, the shock.
“What?” she snaps. “We were literally?—”
“I DON’T WANT TO FUCK YOU ANYMORE.”
It falls right out of his mouth, stone cold.
And mid-sentence, the music dies.
A perfectly timed silence.
Andrew’s eyes slowly close.
Like he just heard himself in surround sound.
He turns to me, whispering,
“I don’t usually talk to women like this.”
His hand slashes the air.
“Swear on my Nonna—I don't.”
I open my mouth about to speak?—
His eyes snap back to me.
"Nah. That's a lie. I do. I'm an asshole."
Elle gapes. “You’redone fuckingme?
“Tell me why I’m the only one you keep runnin’ back to.
“For round two. And three...“
He slides a hand down his face.
“Jesus—I told you outside. You were goin’ through your shit. I was just bein’ what you needed. That’s it. I wasn’t in it. Never was.”
Elle’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ serious right now?”
