Page 69 of Craving Chaos

My smile is a grimace in disguise. “Thanks, Mari.”

Awkwardness rolls through the room like a heavy fog off the bay.

“Okay, I guess I’ll head out and let you rest.” She gives me one last hug and a tentative kiss that wraps a barbed wire of guilt around my heart.

Mari is going to be a bigger issue than I’d hoped. I hate to hurt her, but it’s inevitable. I’m not interested in seeing her anymore. And I’ll tell her. Soon. Just not today. Not only would it drain me dry, but ending things the day I get back seems needlessly hurtful. I’ll put some space between us, let our emotions recover, then gently part ways.

It’s a plan, and having a plan is reassuring. I only wish I knew how to handle the other person in my life. Renzo is giving me space. That’s what I wanted, so why do I feel so despondent? Why does my heart feel as empty as my bed? It’s so damn big and cold. When I slip beneath the covers that night, I wonder how I ever found the damn thing comfortable.

I search my phone and am able to find an app that plays hours and hours of uninterrupted background soundscapes, including one of a crackling fire. It doesn’t sound quite like the cabin stove, but it’s close enough. When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine I’m back there. It’s soothing, but I still can’t fight off the chill at my back. I try not to think about what I’m doing when I lie on my side and wad up my duvet like a wall behind me. It’s not radiating heat, and it doesn’t hold me close, but it’s enough to finally help me find some comfort.

I wonder if I’ll ever readjust back to my old normal. To a time when my heart didn’t ache every damn minute. I know I will, eventually. Probably.

God, I hope so because I hate the way I feel. Like someone stole the North Star from the sky, and I no longer have a direction. I feel untethered, which is unfathomable because I have an incredible family and a job I love. Surely, three weeks with someone can’t negate all that.

It’s the last thing I remember thinking before something wakes me in the night. Quiet footsteps here in my room. I lie perfectly still except for my right hand, which slides under my pillow to grip my Glock. No one gets the drop on me. This bastard’s about to find out the hard way in three … two … one…

“Relax, Chaos. It’s me.”

“Renzo?” My heartbeat was swift but steady at the thought of an intruder. Now, it dips and swirls like a paper airplane running out of steam. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” I replace the safety on my gun and sit up.

“Getting some damn sleep,” he grumbles.

I hear clothes rustling. “Are you … undressing?” I gape at him in the dark.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Well, you almost got yourself killed instead.”

“You wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Maybe not, if I knew it was you. Hard to know that when you break into someone’s house.”

“About that. Why the hell don’t you have an alarm system?”

“Don’t need one. Light sleeper. And speaking of, you can’t sleep at your place?”

“No. I can’t,” he grumbles. “And judging by the sound of a crackling fire in here, you’re having trouble sleeping, too.” He crawls into my bed, forcing me to scoot over.

“You can’t just—"

“I can, and I am,” he cuts me off distractedly as he fumbles with the covers. “What the hell did you do to your quilt?”

“It’s a duvet,” I say petulantly, avoiding his question. I don’t want to admit to myself that I’d used my bedding to pretend he was here with me, let alone tell him what I’d done.

“It’s chaos, but I suppose I should have expected that,” he mutters before snagging me by the waist and pulling my back flush against his front.

“Let’s get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”

I open my mouth to argue, then close it when his masculine scent invades my lungs and scrambles my thoughts. His body wash is divine, but beneath that is an earthy scent that’s all his own. A scent that lent me comfort for three weeks straight.

As the sounds of a fire fill my ears, and the warmth of Renzo’s body melts every last ounce of tension from my coiled muscles, I can’t think of a single reason to send him away. It’s only sleep, after all. For one night. And I was having trouble sleeping on my own. I might as well take advantage and get some rest.

I sleep so soundly that I almost feel like I didn’t sleep at all when morning comes and I wake to light streaming into my bedroom. A contented grin spreads across my face until I roll over and find the bed empty.

CHAPTER 41

RENZO

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