Page 195 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

“You’re panicking,” he says.

“Tell me why you’re panicking.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not panicking.”

His smile is murderous. “Liar.”

I shove it all down—the panic,

the memory clawing up my throat.

If I want to win, I need to up my odds, dangle something even sweeter that he’ll sink his own game just to taste it. Something I’m willing to do over what he’s betting.

“Then, if I win?… I’ll give you head.”

His breath cuts short.

Then he blinks.

Then he rocks back as if I pushed him.

A laugh grinds out of his throat, disbelieving. “Nah. You’re fuckin’ with me.”

I close the gap with a fake-nervous shrug. “Never done it before, but…

“thought maybe you could teach me.

“Show me exactly what you like.”

My eyes climb back to his,

let it hover in his heated gaze.

“I want you to be my first, Drew.”

His eyes slam shut for half a second, holding back a groan. “Allison…” My name breaks rough in his mouth. “You really tryin’ to make me throw this game? You’re fuckin’ evil...” he says, disbelief riding his lips. “Fuck—I want that. With you. But more than that? I wanna prove you can trust me blindfolded.” He takes a step back to put more distance between us. “Besides, if we ever do that? First time ain't gonna be from a fuckin' bet. It'll be 'cause you want to.”

He crouches to dig a pen out of his backpack, swipes a napkin off the table, and bends over the edge of the pool table, scrawling across it. When he straightens, he twirls the pen once between his fingers. “A little insurance to keep you honest.”

Across the napkin,

the bet’s written out in chicken scratch,

his signature below it.

I lean in next.

Add mine right beside his.

Click the pen closed.

Drop it over the napkin,

a nail in my coffin.

Then he’s back in the game,

stick in hand,