Page 20 of Mayhem

Except my pep talk does little to calm the inner swarm of butterflies that have resurfaced as I take in Brad leaning against the gleaming hood of his car. His rolled-up sleeves showcase tattooed forearms that always seem to quicken my pulse. The one of the word CHAOS especially poignant given the circumstances.

As he looks up to greet me with that magnetic smile though, the atmosphere shifts subtly. Gone is the distant rockstar front he usually puts on to conceal the real him. Tonight, it's just Brad meeting my gaze, open and at ease in a way I've only glimpsed in a few unguarded moments before.

He straightens from his casual lean against the car as I approach, eyes glinting warmly beneath the amber streetlights.

"Hey there. Wasn't sure if you'd really show up after Charlie pulled that whole matchmaker thing earlier." He combs back his hair with his fingers, awkwardness creeping in as we hover on the precipice of date territory neither of us expected.

I smooth my blouse self-consciously, going for lighthearted recovery. "Are you kidding? Getting the inside scoop on the best hole-in-the-wall barbecue dive in town? I'd have to be crazy to turn that down."

The small insertion of humor dissolves the tension a little as we fall into step together, shoulders brushing occasionally. Brad's fingers drift tentatively toward mine, and I soften my hand into his, savoring the warm connection kindling to life on this unexpected evening full of possibility neither of us planned on...yet somehow feels fated at the same time.

Our linked hands swing lazily between us, perfectly in tune with each stride down the fading sidewalk. No pressure exists to fill silences that feel as easy as our private laughter. Still, I crave to know more of the layers beneath Brad's polished facade.

"So, tell me...how does the great Brad Chambers actually unwind on his nights off?" I ask.

Brad chuckles low under the flickering streetlights. "I’ve become pretty boring honestly. Just average stuff like browsing songs or videos, having a beer or two. Maybe hitting a show on the strip if friends are playing."

I tilt my head thoughtfully. "What? No wild hot tub parties on super yachts overflowing with models?"

He snorts, playing along. "You found my schedule, huh? Nah, the rockstar perks get old quick. These days I just need good company, and that’s hard to come by." His eyes hold mine meaningfully before darting away shyly.

I glimpse the real man so few have earned access to and savor his trust opening up. Hand squeezed gently, I redirect playfully to keep things light. "Well, I’ll try my best. We have incredible barbecue and my sparkling conversation to look forward to."

Soon we're nestled in a cozy corner booth, chatting easily as we await our food. I hesitate, but curiosity wins out. "So, even though things didn't work out romantically, it seems you and Ren made things really positive for Charlie as co-parents. Was that always smooth sailing?"

Brad nods thoughtfully, taking a sip of his beer. "Honestly, things got messy for a while after the split. But we finally realized Charlie had to come first. Well, I finally realized it. I wasn’t exactly a model father in the beginning. Once Jude came along, he helped mellow the drama."

"That's really great you worked through things for her sake." I smile gently, the shadow in his eyes at old regrets achingly familiar. I redirect playfully before melancholy can creep in. "What about you though? Still fighting off groupies?"

I don’t know why I keep bringing up groupies. Maybe because in my research of the band, it’s all I saw with Brad. One after the other, and some even on repeat. Deep down, it’s a real fear that it’s the only relationship he can have. If it is, my heart is about to get broken.

Brad's eyes sparkle reading me clearly. "Well, there may be a few still trying their luck, but I'm pretty focused on just one incredible woman lately."

A surprised smile spreads across my face as Brad's fingers interlace with mine across the checked tablecloth between us.

"Oh, is that so?" I arch a teasing brow, heart racing. "She must really be something to keep the infamous playboy's attention away from all those glamorous temptations."

Brad's thumb traces distracting circles on my wrist as he leans in. "She's smart as hell, refreshing as a rainstorm in the desert...and so damn beautiful it hurts sometimes."

His poetic words dissolve my ability to volley any sort of witty quip back at him. Blushing, I glance down shyly before meeting his smoldering gaze again. "Well, hopefully she feels the same about you."

“I hope so too.”

Our charged stare lingers, words unnecessary to convey the attraction amplifying with each revealed layer tonight. As tempting appetizers arrive, breaking the tension, I know I'm already in too deep falling for this beautiful man.

Way too deep. And, way too quickly.

The savory aroma of sizzling meat envelops us in this tucked away booth, cocooned from the outside world. Lost in animated conversation, everything fades but this man whose smallest gestures transfix me. How his calloused fingertips skim my wrist bone idly during pauses...the heat of his steady gaze refusing to release mine each time our eyes catch.

My skin prickles, hyperaware of these electric undercurrents circulating stronger by the minute. I imagine the scratch of his beard I ache to feel grazing my neck. This exhilarating attraction threatens to ignite full force with each subtle shift closer beneath the low lighting of the restaurant.

"So will I get to enjoy more of your company when you’re not fixing the next crisis of the week?" Brad asks lightly when finally locating stray words again.

But a smoldering tension arises in the understated question. My heart skips imagining how this magnetic pull between us might deepen. I wet my lips that have gone suddenly dry. "I'd really like that..."

13

LUCKY

---