Page 31 of Centering Kaos

“It’s not like that,” I rushed to say. “I was in a bind and he’s helping me out. We’re… friends.” Friends seemed like a strange title to put on our relationship, since I’d only known him a couple of days, but I had no idea what else to call it.

“Ah. Okay, that makes more sense.” Her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry, I’m Carisa, and you quite possibly just saved my life.”

“I did?” I asked, confused.

She nodded. “If Darius was seeing someone and hadn’t told Aunt Linore there’d be hell to pay and I’d have a very difficult choice to make. I could call and tattle, or, I could blackmail my cousin into all kinds of shit for keeping his secret. I most definitely would have settled on the latter. Then my aunt would have been murderous when she inevitably found out that I knew and hadn’t immediately filled her in.” She flashed me a smile. “So, thanks for keeping me from that suicidal decision.”

She was quick-witted and charming, and I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “My pleasure.”

“But I do reserve the right to make said suicidal decisions in the future, so if the two of you do start dating, please be sure to let me know as soon as possible.”

“I will,” I promised. “But you’re safe. I just escaped from a bad relationship and have no desire to hop right into another.” Realizing how bad that sounded, I winced. “Not like a relationship with your cousin would be bad. That’s not what I meant.”

She laughed. Her gaze shot to my neck. She had to see the bruises, but thankfully, she didn’t say anything about them. Instead, she gave me a reassuring smile. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Come in and keep me company while I clean, will ya? I rarely have anyone other than family to talk to these days, and they’re all so freaking boring they make me want to melt my eardrums.”

That sounded serious, and like a fate I wanted to keep her from, so I followed her inside and went to the fridge like I owned the place. “Can I get you anything to drink? We have milk or… water.”

She quirked an eyebrow at me.

“Sorry. Habit. I… Um…”

Laughing, she went to the cupboard and pulled down two wine glasses. Opening a second cupboard, she paused. “Dammit. I must have drunk all the good stuff last time I was here. You wanna hit the store?”

“Yes!” I practically jumped at the invitation. “I made a list this morning.”

“For the love of God, please tell me there’s more on it than cereal,” she said.

We took the Escalade because Carisa said it made her feel bougie to drive it. I was just glad she wanted to drive, because it looked like a beast to park. Shopping with her was an experiment in people-watching and trash-talking that had me laughing harder than I had in ages. But, as we rolled up to the checkout, I pulled out my credit card and fun time ended.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, sounding offended.

“Paying,” I replied, voicing the obvious.

“Nope. Put that thing away before you hurt your bank account. Darius has this.”

“I want to help,” I insisted.

“Then cook for him. You’ll save him a fortune in food delivery.”

“I’d be buying groceries for me and Dylan wherever we stayed,” I said.

Her eyebrows rose. “Dylan?”

“My son.” I was surprised he hadn’t come up yet, but we hadn’t really talked about our families.

“Then you’re definitely not paying. There’s at least three-hundred-dollars worth of wine in that cart. It’s part of the deal I made with Darius. I clean and shop, and he splurges on the good wine.”

“Three-hundred-dollars? In wine?” I swallowed, barely stopping myself before I put a hand to my chest to make sure my heart was still beating. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around spending so much money on alcohol.

She grinned. “It should hold us over until Friday when I go grocery shopping again.”

I was out of my depth, dealing with people who clearly had a different relationship with money than I did. Backing off, I let Carisa pay for the groceries. Then we loaded them up and drove back to the house where she opened a bottle of the crazy expensive wine and threatened me until I accepted a glass. I justified it by helping her clean. We washed windows and chatted. I avoided the topic of Matt, but I did tell her all about my son.

“What about you?” I asked. “You have any kids?”

“No.” Sadness filled her eyes before she looked away. “I was married once, though. Bryan was a good man. We wanted to start a family, but he died before we could get pregnant.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What happened?”

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