Page 34 of Unleashing Chaos

I lay my head on his shoulder and sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But only because I want us to move on from this so that I can continue doing what I need to do.”

“I hope that isn’t peeping through my window,” he says, lifting one side of his mouth in a playful smile.

I scrunch my face in embarrassment and groan, “It’s not.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here. I have to get up early for a business trip.”

He throws a wad of money on the table, and I hold out a neatly folded bill to pay for my portion. He swats my hand away, refusing to let me pay again. It’s sweet, but nights like these aren’t dates. We’re friends chatting about life, and it feels wrong not to contribute in some way. I slide the money into the side pocket of my wallet, deciding that I’m going to keep it for a day when I can treat him.

Once we’re in the car, I realize I’ve never asked Cannon a really basic question. “What is it you do for a living? You’re always working, whether at the office or out of town on a business trip.”

Cannon turns the radio to his favorite ’90s station and says, “I help people organize their business.”

I bite my lips between my teeth and nod, holding back my laughter. Cannon has a difficult time following the basic rules in the house. It’s hard to believe that my disorderly friend advises others on how to keep their business organized.

“I know what you’re thinking and stop. I’m on my way to becoming the top dog.”

“The king of organization. How fitting.” This time I do laugh.

Cannon rolls his eyes, but he smiles at the same time. “It’s going to happen. It’s the reason I rented a room from Jace. Once I’m at the top, I most likely won’t stay here. Off to bigger and better.”

When I get myself under control, I say, “That’s honestly impressive, Cannon. You certainly deserve whatever promotion you’re working toward because you’re always busy doing something for your career. I commend you on that. All I do is unload the dishwasher and look for a boyfriend.”

“I’m sure all the chores and man searching will lead to bigger things. It sounds like your father will be happy if you pull it off.”

“He will be, but the question is, will I be happy?”

“I think that’s solely up to you, Desi. No one can control your happiness but you.”

If only I could have control over my whole life. If every decision I ever made could be my own. But that will never be the case. I’ll always have to play by my realm’s rules.

And right now, those rules are really messing with my future.

When we get inside the house, I say, “Thank you for taking me to eat and getting my mind off everything for a little bit. I needed that advice from you too. It’s a little embarrassing how clueless I am when it comes to all this stuff.”

He smiles and pulls me in for a hug. “No need to be embarrassed, Desi. You’ll figure out how to navigate it all. You’re just in an atypical situation. Cut yourself some slack.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” I say under my breath, and Cannon just chuckles, kissing me on the forehead.

“Get some rest, Desi.”

“Yeah, you too.”

After Cannon goes to bed, I look around with a sigh. It’s my week to clean the living room and do the bathroom and kitchen laundry, and I haven’t gotten around to either yet. It’s late, but my nagging thoughts will make it impossible to sleep. Since Jace and Cannon are both in their rooms for the night, I can get things done the easy way and burn off some steam.

After changing out of my jeans and into more comfy clothes, I plop onto the couch with my phone and begin my chores.

I point at the vacuum on the stairs with one finger, sending it back and forth from one step to the next. With my other hand, I use my thumb to scroll through my favorite clothing website while barely lifting my index finger to take care of the bath towels in the laundry basket. They float in the air, folding themselves into squares and dropping into another empty basket one by one. I sway my foot gently through the air, directing the feather duster over the TV and electronics.

At this rate, my chores will be done in five minutes flat, and I can go upstairs to—

“What in the fucking magical ass Mary Poppins trippy shit is this?” Jace’s voice floats in from the kitchen, and my heart stops.

I spring to my feet, and the towel drops back into the basket, the vacuum topples down the stairs, and the feather duster falls to the floor with a clack, my concentration broken. “I—uh—I—what are you doing? I thought you were in bed?” I croak.

Jace rubs his eyes with one hand and tugs at his hair with the other. “Do I look any kind of off to you? Is my skin a sickly color? Do you think someone spiked my drink? Fuck! How do I tell a client that one of their employees slipped me a hallucinogen?” Jace falls onto one of the barstools and yanks on his tie, as if it’s strangling him. “Their marketing director gave me the creeps. I should have changed seats. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I drove home like this.” He pulls at the collar of his dress shirt and several of the buttons pop off. His face has now turned a sickly color and sweat beads his brow.

I toss my phone to the couch and rush across the room. I have no idea where he’s been, but I know he needs to calm down. “Jace, I need you to breathe,” I say, invading his space and placing my palms on his knees. “You didn’t get drugged. You’re fine. I promise you, okay?” He doesn’t meet my eyes, and I place two fingers under his chin and lift his gaze to mine. “Do you hear me?”

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