Benny snarls and grabs my jaw, pushing onto his toes until he’s right in my face. “I fucking love you, and I’m pretty sure I’m obsessed with every dumb thing you do because I can never stop thinking about you and talking about you, and if Em kills me, it’s all your fault because he’s sick of how disgustingly schmoopy I am.” He makes a horrified noise and backs up a bit. “You’re schmoopy?” “It’s a sickness. I’ll recover.” “Cute you think I’ll let you.”
