Page 58 of All Your Firsts

Good to hear. I have to get out of Chicago for a minute, but once I come back, I’ll come take her off your hands.

My stomach clenches at the thought of her leaving.

Without her here to brighten things up, my life will once again become a dreary, solemn, lonely place. Work, drink, sleep, repeat.

I should be grateful, but I’m not. I’m conflicted. She’s wound her way into my nonexistent heart that I’ve worked so hard not to have. This is why I don’t get close. This is why I’m guarded.

She’s going to leave me just like everyone else.

Vic

Where’s she going next?

Gage

Why?

I shouldn’t have asked because it’s suspicious and uncharacteristic of me to care, but I can’t help it.

Vic

Just wondering if she’ll try to run.

Lies. What’s one more at this point? I’ve always prided myself on being an honest person, but not anymore, and never when it comes to her.

Gage

Nah, I don’t think she will. I’m arranging for her to marry someone safe. Somewhere far away.

My jaw clenches. I don’t want that, but what the fuck am I going to do about that?

Nothing, and I know it.

She’ll never want me.

Vic

Ok. Let me know.

Fourteen

Vic

Ifinish my last tattoo of the day, a piece Rosie drew up yesterday for a female client who wanted a bunch of flowers around a mandala. It looks good, and the customer sat through it like a champ, which always makes it more enjoyable for me.

“Oh, it turned out great!” Rosie gushes to the customer as she leans over my shoulder to check it out. “Here are your aftercare instructions. I hope you love it as much as I do.”

I get a strange pull in the pit of my stomach at having her here working with me and not just sitting around like when she first came. I should’ve let her contribute from the start. But then she wouldn’t have taken the job at the bar that night, and we wouldn’t have taken what we have to the next level.

Whatever it is that we have.

I walk outside my tattoo shop with Rosie, basking in the chilly evening air. The sun is just setting, and the sky is a magnificent canvas of pinks, oranges, and purples. I stare at it for a beat with thoughts of Rosie on my mind even though she’s inches from me.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she murmurs as she tilts her head back and looks at the sky.

“Yeah,” I say as I look at her. The sunset is nonexistent. What catches my eye is the radiant sparkle in her eyes, the captivating smile that graces her tender lips, and the lingering memory of her delicate neck beneath my touch.

I grab a stray piece of her hair flying in the soft breeze before placing it behind her ear. My hand lingers, not moving from her head. Rosie turns toward me, her eyes an intense deep green like the forest after a rainstorm.

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