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Remy’s movements stutter and he looks up at me, brows crushed together. “What? Why?”
The answer comes when, a moment later, he drops his portfolio and traps me, hemming in against the wall as his
green eyes bear down on me. “You keep eyefucking me, and I’ll never get out of here.”
She pants up at me, her mouth pursed into a hard, disapproving line. “If you want a handjob, Perilini, you don’t have to rough house me to get my attention. I already agreed.”
I fight the urge to wring her neck, instead tightening my thighs and rolling us so that she’s on top. I don’t ask. I don’t beat around the bush. I don’t even give her the chance to have an opinion about it.
“First of all, ew. Second of all,” I slap him upside the head, “are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Cash frowns, still rubbing his head. Moron.
“She hasn’t pointed a gun at you in days.”
She’s excited. For school. I throw Remy a look.
Make it right, fuckface.
So help me, all of these bitches need a culty self-help podcast.
“Come for me, baby. Show me.”
He nudges my face, turning my gaze to his. “Hey.” His lips curl into a sad smile. “We’re all just stars inside of a grave we haven’t laid down in yet.”
He brushes the tear from my cheek. “Remember, Vinny?”
His green eyes hold mine and his head moves, just a fraction, sort of wistful. “I love you, Vinny.”
We step off the edge together, tangled like two vibrant vines.
We fall into the stars. Just like he always knew we would.
