Page 209 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

Outside, the city’s winter blur⁠—

bridge lights drowned in fog,

white steam clinging to the glass,

streetlights tinting through.

But inside, in the dark, in the low pulse of the music, his head tips back against the seat, and he finally looks at me, eyes cooling fast from the color of stormwater to deep midnight sea.

No stars. No shore.

And I’m sinking

right into the undertow.

His eyes say I got you.

Mine say I know.

His say Nah. I fuckin’ got you…

Mine say …then don’t let me go.

Everything that comes after

is a dreamlike haze.

One of his hands buries in my hair,

guiding me down,

pressing me flush against his lap

until I feel the tremor rip through him,

then burn up my back.

His other hand slides warm

up the side of my thigh,

a slow climb higher and higher,

taking my skirt up with it.

Until it’s bunched around my waist.

But it’s worse everywhere else,

all the places he’s not touching,

every cold inch of my skin

leaning into him,

missing him,

reaching for him,