Page 4 of Perfect Chaos

I twist the handle in the shower, turning the water on as hot as it will go. As I wait for it to heat up, I give my teeth a good scrub while planning my attack on my crappy hygiene. Shaving will take the longest, but my hair needs a lot of work. I spit into the sink, rinse my toothbrush, then put it back in the holder. I slip off the boxers I stole two days ago and step into the shower.

The hot water feels amazing against my skin. I already feel a bit better from the water alone. If I had more time, I would bask in the warmth a little more, but I have a date with two good-looking men, and I want to show Atlas I’m still that bitch. Plus, there is no way in hell I am going to meet Gavin looking like this.

I decide to start with shampoo, applying way more than I need and working it into my hair, scrubbing it into a lather before washing it out. I put conditioner on next, making sure I don’t miss any spots. I leave the conditioner in and grab the shaving cream and my razor. I start with my armpits first. Super easy, it only takes me about two seconds for each one. I didn’t even use shaving cream for those. Then I move on to my legs, spraying a small amount in various spots before spreading it out. It’s not super difficult, but it is time-consuming and tedious. I really regret letting it go this long without shaving, but at the time, it was the least of my concerns. With both legs done, I finally move on to shaving my bikini area. What feels like an eternity later, I am shaved, baby-smoothed, and move on to scrubbing my body clean with lavender body wash. Once I am all squeaky clean, I rinse the conditioner out of my hair and shut the water off.

I know I was in the shower way longer than I wanted to be, but it was necessary. I quickly dry off, then brush out my hair before blow-drying it. I don’t feel like spending all the extra time styling my hair, so I opt to pull it up into a high ponytail. Once all the little hairs are slicked back into place, I apply black eyeliner, warm brown eyeshadow, and a light layer of mascara. It’s nothing extravagant, but I am happy with it. When it comes to makeup, simple is my comfort zone. I never got very good at all the fancy stuff, so I usually avoid it. Now I just have to figure out what to wear.

I skip to the closet, only to remember I never got around to unpacking my clothes. I read all the labels before ripping open the box labeled clothes and dumping them out on the bed. I rummage through the pile, which mainly consists of skirts, shorts, and jeans, but none of it calls to me. I want something a little bit different from my usual outfit. I almost give up when I pull a dress out from the bottom of the pile. This is perfect. It's a form-fitting black dress with a long slit at the leg. It’s gorgeous, but not exactly the type of dress you wear undergarments with. Somehow, that makes me love the dress even more. I am not a dress person, so if I am going to put one on, I am going to do it right. I slip the dress over my head and love the way it feels on my body. I feel confident, even if the dress is nothing more than pretty armor. Happy with the outfit, I slip on a black pair of Converse to match the dress, then use my phone to call a rideshare before slipping it and my trusted knife into a small clutch and walking out the door.

The driver arrives shortly after I lock the front door and walk to the end of the driveway. The fifteen-minute drive to the bar is uneventful. I keep my nose buried in my phone while the middle-aged woman driving hums along to whatever song is playing on the radio. I am glad she doesn’t try to force awkward small talk. Granted, she can probably sense my anxiety from where she sits. She drops me off, and I leave her a five-star review just because.

Okay. I left the house. I'm relieved I made it this far, but also pissed off that I am so anxious about this. This is the first time I have gone out in weeks. I pace back and forth a bit before the strange looks from the bouncer stop me in my tracks. Alright, pull it together, Maizyn. You can do this. I hand the bouncer my ID. He checks it before handing it back and ushering me inside. Taking one more grounding breath, I walk into Elixirs and immediately feel eyes on me. Looking up, my gaze connects with two sets of eyes. Atlas’ blue ones, which are full of lust and heat. I’ve seen the look in his eyes enough to know it’s what love looks like. It swirls in his gaze. Dancing and growing the longer he watches me. As I make my way closer to them, my eyes collide with light honey brown ones, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand at attention. I know those eyes belong to Gavin, but why is he looking at me the same way Atlas just did?

Gavin

He talks about her like she is his obsession. The entire time I have known him, he has never mentioned a woman, yet now he acts as if his entire world revolves around her. I'm not sure what her being his yellow means; I'll have to ask him. I don’t really understand any of it; he didn’t do relationships. He thrived on remaining in control. Yet I had to sit and watch him unravel because of her. Atlas looked me dead in the eye and admitted he would have let her pull the trigger. I didn’t understand the impulse. I already took care of a dead body for her, not saying the man didn’t deserve it. But I couldn’t wrap my head around how any one woman could create such chaos. Shaking my head clear, I vow to drop the subject for now and follow Atlas inside. I don’t want to argue with my best friend on my first night back.

I saunter in expecting to find a pissed-off Atlas, but instead I slide into our usual booth to a sullen Atlas who is already on his second whiskey and a fresh glass of whiskey on the table waiting for me. I’m not sure how he managed to get drinks so quickly when it’s only been about two minutes since he left me outside, but I don’t mind if I do. I down the glass in one go and wave the bartender over for another. We sit in silence for a moment before Atlas finally speaks.

“I wanted to ask you when I picked you up, but we got off topic. How come I picked you up from a hotel instead of your house?”

Shit. I was hoping he wouldn’t have noticed. “About that… I’m kind of staying there for now.”

“Why would you stay at a hotel when you have a perfectly good house to live in?”

I scratch my chin, trying to think of a way out of this, but come up empty. “I don’t have the house anymore.”

“Why not? I thought you owned it.”

“At the time, I was too indecisive to buy a house, so I signed a two-year lease. The lease was about to end when you said you wanted to get away from here for a while, so I ended the lease and went with you. I didn’t know how long we were going to be gone for or if we were coming back, and I didn’t want to pay for a place I wasn’t going to be staying in. The hotel is temporary. Just until I find another place.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, confused.

“I didn’t think it was important; you had enough going on as it was.”

“You know I have the extra space, right? I would have to ask Chaos to make sure she is fine with it, but I don’t see why she wouldn’t be.”

“I don’t want to impose but I know you well enough to know you won’t take no for an answer. Also, why do you call her Chaos?”

“No, I definitely won’t. I call her Chaos because It's what she is. Messy, crazy, unpredictable but in the best kind of way.” His smirk is dangerous before it breaks into a full-blown smile.

Before I get the chance to tell him he is crazy and the name Chaos cannot be a form of endearment, something pulls Atlas' attention away from our conversation and towards the door. My eyes track to follow his, and I take back everything I said earlier. All it took was seeing her walk in to understand what Atlas was so stuck on. Yeah, I have seen pictures of her. I’ve also seen her in grainy security cameras and drone feeds. But you can’t feel a magnet in a picture. She walks through the front doors of Elixirs, and static electricity runs through my veins as she walks closer to our booth. She has on a skin-tight black dress with a slit high enough up there is no way in hell she is wearing anything underneath based on the amount of skin showing. My eyes naturally trail her body, stopping on the pair of black Chucks on her feet. I have never met a woman who would wear anything other than heels with a dress like that. I can’t help but be intrigued. Heads turn to watch her as she goes, yet she doesn’t even notice. She is only looking at him until her emerald green eyes land on me. A gasp leaves my lips. I swear my heart stops beating. For just a tiny moment, I caught her attention. She didn’t look at me like most women did. She didn’t look through me like I was completely beneath her; she didn’t look at me like I was only good for a fun night. I don’t know how to describe it, but it was something I immediately craved more of.

I am so fucking screwed.

Atlas pulls her onto his lap as she sticks out her hand in a form of greeting. “Hey, I’m uh Maizyn Lewis. I’m not sure how much you know, but it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Gavin Blackwell.” I grasp her small hand in mine. Her touch tingles against my palm as I shake her hand gently. “The pleasure is all mine.” I don’t tell her I know enough to have a million questions for her. This is not the time and place for that. I don’t tell her she has captured my attention either.

I tell myself it's just deluded lust. She is attractive, and with all my focus on hiring people to run the Willowhook office, I haven’t exactly been entertaining women lately. That has to be it.

“Darling Chaos, Gavin is currently staying at the hotel across town. No pressure at all, the decision is completely up to you, but would you be opposed to him staying in the guest room until he finds another place? He gave up his other house to follow my sorry ass to Willowhook when I went.”

I watch her facial expression for any sign she doesn’t want me to move in, but don’t see one. Instead, something I don’t recognize flashes in her eye before she nods her head. “Yeah, of course, he can stay in the guest room for as long as he needs. It’s the least we can do for him since he cleaned up the mess I made. Plus, you didn’t have to ask; it’s your house, Atlas.”

“It’s our house. I wouldn’t make a decision that would affect you like this without making sure you were okay with it.”

They keep conversing, but my mind is stuck on the fact she pretty much just admitted to killing someone. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like her before.