Page 29 of Centering Kaos

Tina

ISHOULD HAVE been worried about Matt, but it was thoughts of Kaos that kept me up all night. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met, and his sweet conversation with Dylan played on repeat in my mind, making me hopeful for a better life once we were free of Matt.

I wondered if Kaos would still be single when I was ready to start dating again. Then, I questioned my intelligence and sanity for even thinking such thoughts. The last thing I should be worried about was another man. Hadn’t I learned my lesson? It was past time to focus on taking care of Dylan and surviving the next three months.

“You’re not some kind of superhuman, and nobody here expects you to be.”

Kaos’s words kept tumbling through my mind, making me feel all kinds of things. He was kind, but also wrong. Matthadexpected perfection from me. I felt woefully inadequate more days than not, wearing his disappointment like a collar that always returned me to that address. After all, I came with a massive amount of baggage that nobody sane would want to take on.

But Kaos had reached for me.

I could still feel his phantom fingertips brushing over my skin, sprouting goosebumps in his wake. He might not expect perfection from me, but he had to have some expectations. Some requirements. Could I live up to those? Would I even want to try? Mind spinning in circles, I stared at the ceiling and tried like crazy to count sheep.

Around six a.m., I gave up on pretending to rest and padded downstairs, planning to thank our host for his hospitality by cooking everyone a healthy breakfast. Since I was practically dead on my feet, I needed caffeine, first, but the kitchen countertops were void of anything that looked like a coffee maker. A small, copper pot sat beside the stovetop. I picked it up, eyed it suspiciously, and sniffed it. It smelled like coffee, but I had no idea how to use it.

With no other obvious options for caffeinating, I turned my focus toward food. Slipping into the pantry, I turned on the light and was bombarded with shelves full of cereal.

Tons of cereal.

We’re talking a grocery store aisle of cereal.

No rice, no beans, no flour, no sugar, just a handful of spices and every brand of cereal known to man.

Laughing to myself at the ridiculousness of it, I tried the fridge and found an unopened box of butter, half a gallon of milk, and some Chinese takeout that smelled like it was at the end of its lifecycle. Not much to work with. While Dylan would no doubt be thrilled about living offCap’n CrunchandCookie Crisp, if we planned to stay at Kaos’s for any stretch of time, I’d need more options. I glanced at the whiteboard Kaos had mentioned, but quickly dismissed it. His cousin might shop for him, but I would buy my own groceries.

Needing to start a list, I searched for a pen and paper for a while before remembering that this was the twenty-first century and I had other options. Pulling out my borrowed phone, I found the notes app and started my list. The sound of footsteps drew my attention, and I looked up in time to watch Kaos round the corner.

I was not at all prepared for the sight.

Eyes dark, hair mussed, wearing only a pair of faded black sweats that hung low on his hips, he was a treasure trove of well-defined pecs, abs, and biceps. All out there, exposed, just begging for me to gawk at him. His chest held a spattering of dark hair, but it was the hair on his lower belly—the trail that led down past the waistband of his sweats—that had my absolute attention. That happiest of trails filled my mind with the kind of explicit images that required the clutching of pearls and a whole slew of Hail Marys.

If I wasn’t careful, Kaos’s body would send me straight to hell.

“Good mornin’,” he said.

His voice rumbled through every inch of me. It also must have kick-started my brain because I realized where I was staring, and my gaze immediately snapped up to his face. Where it should have been all along. A smile played at the corners of his lips and I knew I’d been caught. Heat flooded my cheeks as I hurriedly looked away.

“Morning.” My voice squeaked. Seriously squeaked! Embarrassment hovering dangerously close to mortification levels I could never recover from, I cleared my throat and tried again. “Mornin’. I would have made coffee, but uh…” I pointed at the little copper pot beside the stovetop. “I don’t know how to use that.”

He padded over to the counter, scooped up the little copper pot, and took it to the sink. “Have you ever had Greek coffee?”

“No.”

“It’s a lot like Turkish coffee.” He rinsed the pot, filled it, and held it up. “This is abriki.” He pronounced the word bree-kee. “You like sugar in your coffee?”

“Yes. And I’ve never had Turkish coffee, either.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat.” Carrying the pot to the stovetop, he turned on the gas and added a couple measures of ground coffee before retrieving a canister of sugar from the cupboard above the stove.

Ahh. At least he had sugar. I made a mental note to check out that cupboard and see what other ingredients were stashed up there. He added sugar to the pot and stirred, giving me a nice view of his ripped back. I’d never cared about shoulder blades before, but Kaos’s were quite the focal point. I had to force my gaze away so I could take in the rest of him. Broad shoulders tapered down to his waist. Two incredibly sexy indentations peeked out above his low waistband, and I had the overwhelming desire to touch them and see what they felt like.

And his ass… holy crap, how was it even possible to look that good in sweats?

“Medium low heat, stir it until the sugar dissolves and then stop,” he said, pulling me out of my lusty thoughts. Giving the pot a few more hard stirs, he set the spoon aside and turned to face me. Attention on the phone in my hand he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Having completely forgotten all about my task, I held up the cell awkwardly. “Just working on a grocery list.”

“Did you forget?” He tugged the magnetic whiteboard off the side of the fridge and held it out toward me. “That’s what this is for.”

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