Page 118 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

He drifts to the shelf. To the photo.

The one of Mom, Dad, and me.

His fingers hover before pulling back slow, thinking maybe he has no right to touch.

He scans the rest—books, CDs, old cassettes, vinyl that still smells like Dad’s old studio.

“Yeah,” he says, taking it all in. “Makes sense you keep this room off-limits.” His eyes find mine again. “This is your whole heart.” He steps closer. “And you’re lettin’ me stand right in the center of it.”

I look away. ‘Cause he’s not wrong.

The rest of the penthouse says

‘don’t get comfortable.’

This room says

‘please don’t leave.’

His hands come over my face, and he looks at me—heavy, stripped, eyes all bedroom and warm. “You lettin’ me stay here tonight, Sonny?” He tips his chin toward my bed. “Like… in your bed? Next to you?”

I nod.

He opens the towel I have clutched around my shoulders, and he pulls me into him, my naked body melting into his warmth. “You gonna let me make a soaking mess outta you?” he murmurs, his mouth near my ear, hand sliding down my waist. “Remind you who you’re supposed to be with?”

I grab his wrist, slide his hand off me.

“No.”

He freezes, trying to process it. “No?”

“I’m gonna grab us waters.”

His hands fall to his sides.

“Wait, just so I understand—‘cause I’m drunk as fuck—you’re really tellin’ me I can’t eat your pussy all night?”

“Correct.”

He huffs a laugh.

“Damn… okay. And why not again?”

“Because I wanted to please you,” I say. “And you’re not gonna cheapen that by thinking you gotta return the favor.”

He eases back to look at me.

“But I want to. I fuckin’ crave it.”

“You go ‘head and stand there all heartbroken. I’m gettin’ us waters.”

His grin spreads stunned.

“Fuckin’ rude, honestly.”

“Mhm. You gonna be alright, tough guy,” I call over my shoulder.

Every light’s still on in the kitchen.