Page 567 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

A pathetic laugh leaves me. “Yeah, well, you hand yours over on a silver platter. Then I lift the lid and—Surprise, it’s just your hard dick again.”

He empties his pockets on the counter,

phone, keys,

then pulls his glasses off fast,

as if he wants to snap something in half,

muttering through a groan, “Gesù Cristo, la mia donna è una fottuta psicopatica.”

I squint at him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Andrew’s eyes lift back to me.

“I said, Jesus—why she gotta be beautiful.”

I stare at him.

He stares back at me.

“Brooke, what did he just say?”

AI Brooke: “Jesus Christ, my woman is a fucking psychopath.”

I drum my fingers on the counter.

His shoulders drop. “Allison, okay, let’s be honest. From day one you been starin’ at us like we’re a bomb ready to fuckin’ blow any second. Like we’re somethin’ you gotta disengage before it kills you. Like ‘cause you don’t know how it ends or how far it goes, you’re too scared to stay in it⁠—”

I scoff. “That’s not true.”

His hand comes out, stopping me. “But that ain’t the real reason this scares you.”

I fall back on my heel,

crossing my arms against my chest.

His eyes widen on me. “What scares the livin’ shit outta you is you know exactly what this is. You know exactly how I feel about you.” His gaze flicks across my face, then chest, back to my face. “You been knowin’. That you and me? Us? It’s everything, Allison. And it’s never gonna end. We're never gonna stop feelin' this way.”

My arms hang at my sides,

and I glance off.

“Allison, fuckin’ look at me.”

I do, and his palm flies back out.

“It’s everything. The thing.

“Like, this is the one. This is it.

“And if we lose each other?” His hand drops. “Then someday, some girl’s gonna look at me and go, ‘It’s always gonna be her, isn’t it?’ and I’ll tell her, ‘Yeah. It’s Allison. Always.’”

His throat bobs once,

eyes drifting between mine.