Page 99 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

He flicks a cigarette loose,

and points it at me.

“I never once asked for pussy.

“Never chased it. Never got off on it.

“Never even touched my dick.

“That shit was charity, not sex.”

He sticks the cig between his lips, cups the end, and lights it like he’s done this in storms, in fights, in worse nights than this.

His tipsy eyes settle on me.

“Then here you come,

“with that smart-ass mouth,

“that fuck-you attitude,

“actin’ like you don’t need nobody.”

He lifts his palm.

“And now look at me.

“Look at me.”

He shakes his head.

“Fuckin’ gone.”

He blows smoke out.

“So addicted? Nah. Maybe to the feelin’ of bein’ worth a damn, but that died off a long time ago.

“And if you’re askin’ if I’m obsessed?

“If we’re bein’ honest?

“Layin’ it all out?”

He pauses a beat,

steam climbing his neck.

“Yeah. I am.”

A breath.

“With you.

“And it ain’t healthy.”

He chuckles, stunned, still having no idea how I got him like this. “God—I think about eatin’ you more than I think about eatin’.” He squints through the smoke. “That’s a problem, right?”

That smug-ass Jersey smirk creeps in,