Page 25 of Sour Notes

I deserve that.

But what the hell else am I supposed to do? Sit here and pretend like my blood isn’t boiling at the thought of her going out with some other guy?

If I had my way, I wouldn’t be sitting on our goddamn sofa scrolling DoorDash while she walks out of our door looking like that.

I’ll tell you what I want to do.

I want to follow her to the fucking restaurant and rip her away from whatever obnoxious asshole she’s having dinner with.

I want to tear his eyes out for even looking at her.

I want to toss her over my shoulder, bring her home to my bed and keep her there till she claims it as ours.

I want to cuff her there and make her come repeatedly until she screams my name loud enough for the world to hear.

I want to make her mine in every sense of the word.

I want to be hers. Forever.

But you know what my mom always said?

I want—doesn’t get.

I’ve never felt those words as hard as I do now.

I should never have fucked her in that restroom. Before that, I was fine.

Totally fucking fine.

Sure, I had some shit repressed, but who doesn’t? At least I didn’t have to feel like this. This is the worst.

The sex ban's screwing with my head and making me crazy.

I did it to prove to her that I’m not the manwhore she thinks I am.

Yeah, okay—I’ve had some fun, but what else was I supposed to do?

I spent my early teens wrestling with myself over breaking bro code. Then, before I could grow a pair and be straight with her brother about my feelings, the Jackass beat me to it and asked her to prom.

I wasn’t about to try and muscle in on another guy’s girl. That’s not my style.

Mia was all I ever wanted, but once she was in a relationship—and she was in it for a long damn time—I didn’t have a snowball's chance in hell.

So now, I’m living like a fucking monk. I haven’t touched anyone but her in ten months. Actually, I’m pretty sure we’ve tipped into the eleventh month now. That’s almost a YEAR.

But to what end?

It sucks because the second she finally let me break out of the friendzone, it confirmed everything I already knew.

She was it for me.

Correction… she is it for me.

And when you get a taste of heaven, you don’t want to crash back down to earth again.

Dragging a hand through my hair, I toss my head back against the sofa in frustration.

She had no such realization and clearly has no issues dating. I’ve had to watch her walk out that door countless times. She scrolls that stupid dating app, one I’ve talked myself out of joining just to read her profile a million times now.