Page 31 of One Last Chance

At the bottom of the stairs, I slide down with my back against the wall and put my face in my hands. “Fuck…”

?

“I’m really glad you decided to come out with us.”

Joane’s voice pulls me out of my head. I blink, quickly adjusting my eyes from staring into the distance, and quickly smile at her.

“It’s been nice,” I say, hoping doing so out loud will convince myself as well. There is nothing to hate about this evening. Joane’s friends are all young, hopeful and friendly. A stark contrast to the boring, middle-aged community at work. It’s been a while since I went out for drinks with a group like this and it’s not half bad. It reminds me of my days at college.

There’s an empty plate with bones from the ribs I had with some baked beans and salad. Everyone else seems to have finished their food as well, and the drinks keep coming.

I’m on my…what, fourth one?

“You know,” Joane whispers, leaning towards me playfully, “Aaron there has been eyeing you the whole evening. He’s a beta, if that matters to you,” she adds, still a little awkward around the whole topic for no reason.

Discreetly lifting her finger as she holds her glass up in front of me, she darts her eyes toward the tan hunk of a man a few seats to the side of us. He’s handsome. In an online model, perfectly attuned to the current beauty standards kind of way.

Like he can sense we are talking about him, his dark blue eyes flicker toward me and flash me a smile. I smile back and lift my drink, taking a sip.

“How old is he?” I ask with my lips against the glass.

“Twenty-five, I think,” she responds.

I widen my eyes, snorting into the glass. “My god.”

“Come on.” Joane pokes me in the ribs with her shoulder but leaves it at that, joining a chat with the girl next to her.

I look into my glass and then back up at Aaron. Young guys don’t really do it for me, but he’s nice to look at. He seems like he could do well at cheering me up. Past few weeks have been tougher on me than I expected.Stupid, really.

With another sip, I finish my drink and pull out my phone.

I am such a masochistic idiot. Each time I unlock the screen, I expect a message. Even though it was me who responded to him less and less, shorter and shorter, until finally…Rowland seemed to have gotten the message. My last text was read and sits with no response.

Staring at it, I get that sharp sting across my chest again, so I quickly put my phone away and decide to make something out of this evening, at least. The next time Aaron’s eyes find me, I meet his gaze confidently. He wants me. I can tell without pheromones or all that stuff. And I suppose I want him.

We don’t get a moment together until later, after most of the group had already dispersed. With Joane safely in a taxi with her friends, I find Aaron smoking at the back of the restaurant by the closed-off garden area.

I hate smoking. So I step toward him and carefully put my index finger below and my middle finger above the cigarette, sliding them from the burning tip all the way to his mouth. The gesture works as well as I hoped it would—he pauses, eyes wide and filled with lust. If he were a venus, I’m sure I could sense his pheromones responding to me at this exact moment.

I use that moment to pluck it from his lips and throw it on the ground, stepping on it. His lips are against mine when I blink, and as we twist our tongues together, I do my best to ignore the gross taste of his cigarette.

We’re both buzzed and the back alley is quiet—and reasonably not-disgusting—so we dance toward it, twisting together and touching each other. He presses me against the wall and I gasp between our kisses as his crotch rubs against mine.

Yes, good. Distraction. Focus on the physical.

I run my fingers through his short coily hair, and wonder how I got into this situation. Hooking up with someone I don’t really know in some back alley like an animal. I only do stupid fucking things like this when I’m desperate.

And I’ve been desperate. Depressed. Empty.

But even as Aaron moans into my ear and inches his hand toward my ass, none of that changes. The desire barely scrapes at the edges of those dull, low feelings that have been following me. Because he's not the one I want.

"W-wait," I mutter, pushing gently against his shoulders and facing away. He hesitates, the warm hands that have been making their way underneath my pants halting.

I feel like such an idiot.

"Did I do somethi—"

Unintentionally, I let out a sharp chuckle. "No." I'm not laughing at him, but at what a ridiculous, gigantic mess I am. Aaron's distressed face reminds me that he doesn't know that, so I quickly put my hands together with an apologetic frown. "I'm sorry, I…I think I'm still hung up on someone," I admit with a huff, biting down at my lower lip as I move away from him.

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