Page 58 of First Chance

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why doesn’t anyone want me? My family… A man… You.”

She’s drunk enough that she doesn’t wait for a response from me.

“You can’t wait to get rid of me. You told me I was worse than prison.”

“No, I didn–”

She cuts me off. “I’m going to die alone.” She tips the bottle back again, gulping loudly.

When I told her that being around her felt like prison, I meant it, but not in the way she thinks.

Her existence is torturous to be around.

I can’t imagine a world without her in it, and yet the fact that I’m subjected to her presence is a twisted joke.

I want to be near her in every way, I only want to breathe the air that has graced her lips, but I can’t.

I am a grown man, and I’ve lived multiple lives in my time on Earth. But nothing has come close to being here at the same time as Jo.

Every second of every day, I want to be near her, hearing her sweet voice or having her smile aimed my way, but I have to watch as her family ignores her.

I have to sit by and watch the fuckers who are meant to cherish her, abuse the gift they were given.

She is the sun their universe should revolve around.

She is the main character.

And, I can’t have her.

Because I’m the seedy villain locked away in the sewer.

I’m the beast.

“I’ve never even seen a penis. Can you believe that? I mean I have, but not in real life.” She hiccups.

She isverydrunk. “Okay, I think it’s time for bed.”

She stands from my couch, wobbling slightly even though she tossed her heels over the arm a while ago. “I’ve never even been kissed properly.”

I ignore every word coming out of her mouth. It’s not helping the internal battle raging inside of me to show her how damn desirable she is.

“It’s overrated,” I grunt instead. I’ve never been particularly excited about kissing someone, it’s more a means to an end.

“What, why?” She asks as she claws at the back of her dress, trying to get the zipper.

I can’t tell her how enticing her lips are and how they would blow my opinion out of the water.

“Stop, let me get it.” I unzip her dress halfway down her back, only intending to help her so she’s not stuck in it, but she reaches behind herself and unzips it the rest of the way, letting it slip from her body.

“Jesus Christ.” I spin around, facing the wall, before it hits the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” she mumbles. After a couple of seconds of silence, I break my neck looking over my shoulder.

She’s lying on the couch with the flannel throw blanket I keep on the back. Her eyes are closed, and it already sounds like she’s snoring and fast asleep.

Naked under my blanket… In my house…

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