Page 51 of King of Pain

Chance queues up the game, and the competition is on. The living room fills with the sounds of explosions, banter, and Little G softly panting by our feet.

“Seriously? That’s the best you can do?” Chance teases after I misjudge a jump in the game and my character plummets to his doom.

I roll my eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t get cocky, Sullivan. I’ll make a comeback.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs, leaning back against the couch. “I’ll believe it when I see it,PacMan.”

I groan.

We go back and forth, trash-talking and laughing until my stomach hurts. It’s then that I realize something unusual—I feel completely at ease.

After another round where I almost beat him, I set my controller down and turn to him.

“Hey, Chance,” I start, my tone more serious now. “Thanks. For letting me stay, I mean. I’ll find a way to pay the favor back. I know it’s temporary, but…” I trail off, unsure how to finish the thought.

He looks over at me, his blue eyes crystal, yet warm and sincere. “You don’t have to thank me, Ant, I meant what I said. Little G loves you, and I’m kind of a fan too.”

My heart lodges itself in my throat.

“Also, you owe me nothing, Beautiful, but if you walked around the apartment in your boxer briefs, I wouldn’t complain.” He winks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Ooh, or better yet, cooking for me in your boxer briefs.”

My face heats instantly, and I turn my attention back to the TV, picking at the label on the beer in my hands. Inside, I’m spiraling. How am I supposed to survive under the same roof as this man?

“Blushing already?” Chance teases, nudging my shoulder. “We haven’t even gotten tomewalking around inmyboxer briefs yet.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, trying not to focus on how red my face must be—or the vision he just put in my head.

He laughs, and the sound wraps around me, softening the edges of everything else.

Chance orders a pizza, and as we dive into another game, I find myself stealing glances at him, wondering how I’m going to keep my head straight when everything about him makes me want to lose it.

After Chance takes Little G out one last time and heads to bed, I find myself sitting on the edge of the couch, my duffel bag at my feet. I stare blankly at the pup for a while as he snores softly on the rug. He wouldn’t follow Chance to bed, earning him the title of Little Traitor, or Little T,from Chance. The accusation made me laugh, but Little G staying by my side was exactly what I needed, and I think he knew that. I wouldn’t have minded if Chance had stayed a little longer, too.

My thoughts are a tangled mess, looping around themselves in a way that makes my head hurt. Staying here was a simple solution, right? But nothing about it feels simple.

Chance has been… incredible. Unexpected, but incredible. Not just tonight, either. Since the day he breezed into town, he’s made it his mission to chip away at my hard exterior, and damn it, it’s working. He’s made me feel lighter, freer in ways I didn’t think were a possibility for me.

Now, he’s opened his home to me without hesitation, no questions asked. Yet here I am, overthinking every moment. Every breath. Every look.

Being here feels good. Too good. That’s the problem. My walls are already chipping in his presence—the top bricks beginning to crumble. Now we’ll be sharing space, for however long. Whatif he punches a hole through and sees what’s on the other side? What if he doesn’t like what he finds?

What if I don’t like being seen?

Chance is disarming in a way that terrifies me. His warmth, his easy smile, the way he somehow seems to know when I need space and when I need someone close. It’s not just comfortable. It’s safe. Safe isn’t something I’ve ever let myself feel.

Not afterthem.

I run a hand through my hair and sigh, trying to ignore the warmth blooming in my chest. Every day, it gets harder to ignore the way my heart leaps when he calls me beautiful, the way his eyes pierce through my protective exterior like sunlight cutting through fog. I’ve caught myself watching him too many times, wondering what it would feel like to letallmy walls come down. Wondering what it would feel like to be seen. Really seen. By him.

Let him show you what you already know about yourself.

But then there’s the other side. The one screaming at me to keep my distance. That I’m only setting myself up for disappointment. I can’t let myself get too close, can’t let him see everything. What if it’s too much? What if I ruin this?

And then there’s this priest. The thought of him sends a chill down my spine. He’s shown up three times now, and I refuse to believe it’s a coincidence. Is he watching me? Just waiting for the right moment to... what? I don’t even want to think about it.

Maybe it’s better that I’m staying with Chance. That night… he didn’t even hesitate. He went after that priest without a second thought, his voice sharp and his body tense with anger. He didn’t stop to ask why I was so shaken; he just saw it and reacted, like someone who is used to identifying a threat.

It made me feel Protected. That’s what I think scares me the most—how easy it is to let myself feel safe with him. It’s notsomething I’ve ever had for long, and the more I lean into it, the harder it’ll be when it disappears.