The Thirteenth Chance by Amy Matayo

Author:Amy Matayo [Matayo, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503935778
Publisher: Waterfall Press
Published: 2016-09-26T21:00:00+00:00

Will

Out from under the microscope of my two judgmental eyes, Olivia is different. Almost as if I have shoved her into a cocoon of my own making, where wings are held tight and breath is taken within the confines of minimal space. And now that we’re out . . . Olivia has become a butterfly with a wingspan so wide and beautiful it fills this entire room.

And once again, I’ve become a freaking poet.

She has no idea how beautiful she is, or how effortlessly she puts others at ease. Maybe it’s an act or a perfectly honed skill developed on the back of many panic attacks, but Olivia has a way with others. A grace that’s hard to find. A kindness that exposes itself despite her desire to blend into the background. From my spot on the massive white leather sofa, I look away from the goddess in front of me and down into my glass. The mixture of rum and Coke is a lot heavier on the carbonation than it should be. The loneliness in my gut is a lot deeper than it should be.

“You’ve lost your knack for mixing drinks,” I say, swirling the ice and watching it spin. I’m not in the mood for conversation or company. Olivia still hasn’t explained away our meeting, and I have no idea what she’s going to say.

“Everyone’s a critic.” Blake slips the glass from my hand and walks over to the bar. Adding a scoop of ice, he pours in more liquid and stirs it with a straw before handing it back to me. He sits a few feet away and props up his feet on the round table in front of us. “There you go, princess. If you want more, go get it yourself.”

I don’t comment, just take a sip—stronger, harder, burns on the way down; more my style—and stare at the television and SportsCenter, trying to get lost in the highlights. For as long as I can remember, games have been my life. I don’t appreciate Olivia’s unwelcome distraction, even though I brought it on myself. But she wasn’t supposed to be charming. She wasn’t supposed to blend with my friends and teammates. She wasn’t supposed to be so damn beautiful. I never should have told her to pull her hair free of that tight ponytail. She should have kept it severe and unflattering and then maybe my nerves wouldn’t be so on edge, my fingers itching to touch the stupid strands every time she walks by.

Except it’s not just the hair. It’s the eyes. It’s the jawline.

It’s the body.

The very hot body in that very appealing black dress.

I steal another glance her way just in time to see her laughing at some dumb joke Kimberly just told. My back teeth grind together as my jaw works back and forth. The way she sits there so at ease, sinking into the navy chair as though it was made for her. It makes me wonder about the real Olivia.

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