I refuse to let anyone define me that way. Especially not a woman like Olivia.
No idea why I'd felt that primal urge to impress her. To make her see me as strong. Courageous.
Maybe it's just biology. The way I'm fucking drawn to her.
Who wouldn't be?
I steal a glance when she isn't looking. Her tied-up top exposing her midriff, stomach soft and perfect, tattoo creeping up her sternum, pierced belly button glinting under the lights. Like lace decorating a goddess.
Dark red hair tamed in a giant claw clip, loose tendrils framing her face. Makeup light tonight, with just some mascara to darken those eyes, a flush of blush, and tinted gloss making her lips glisten.
My mind flashes to our last night together. Her face twisted in pure bliss, body on full display as she rode me, taking every inch with a rhythm that broke me.
My cock twitches hard in my pants. I have to readjust, tucking it into my waistband before anyone notices. Can't be sporting a boner at work.
I keep checking my phone. Half hoping she'll text so I can apologize. Half praying she never will.
My internal war shatters when I hear her voice cutting through the noise.
She's yelling something at a coworker, bag slung over her shoulder. Leaving early. Makes sense. Sunday night, slow after season. Surprised they haven't sent me home too. I'm the only security on for tonight.
We lock eyes as she pushes through the front door.
No smile. Just an eye roll. Then gone.
No words. Nothing.
Fuck.
It feels like she's ripped my heart out and stomped it under her heel.
But isn't this what I wanted?
So why does it hurt like this?
How fucking twisted am I?
I stand there frozen, staring at the door she just slammed through.
The eye roll burns worse than a slap. Clean. Final. Like I'm nothing worth a second thought.
My chest tightens, breath shallow. Heart pounding like I've run a mile.
But this is what I wanted, right? Distance. Safety. No more risking the pity, the disappointment.
So why does it feel like I just lost something I can't get back?
I force myself to turn away, scanning the thinning crowd like nothing happened. Routine. Work. Anything to drown the ache.
But my mind keeps replaying it. Her midriff, the tattoo, that night. Her body under mine. The way she'd looked at me like I was more than my scars.
Now? Just a ghost who doesn't even deserve a goodbye.
Two ladies are hovering by the exit. One of them laughs, pulling me back. Harmless flirting, tipsy giggles. Easy distraction.
I nod, force a grin. "Ladies. Everything good here?"
They flutter, oblivious. Perfect.
