Page 11 of Kissing Chaos
“Don’t try that just because I can’t see you, Jett. You are too old to let your brother do the talking for you. What is going on that has your brother stressed enough to cook chicken Alfredo?” Of course, the woman who raised us knows when I try to deflect situations to my brother even when she can’t see us.
My knee bounces of its own free will. Just like when I lived under her roof, my muscles draw tight, tension building between my shoulder blades. The flat-out refusal to answer her question is on the tip of my tongue, but my lungs squeeze a breath out.
I’m trying to become a better version of me. A stronger version. One that doesn’t cower from conversations with people who love her.
“Joey left. I got stuck in an elevator, I changed therapists, and I’m moving. Sorry. Gotta go. Love you, Mom.” Before Reece can sense what I am about to do, I slam my thumb against the end button, cutting off the call and staring at the device on the counter while my breathing turns ragged.
I can’t take in enough oxygen. The familiar sting of tears sits behind my eyes, but I shut it down. I refuse to shed one more tear over this nightmare of a month. And maybe it wasn’t a great first try at being strong, but it’s more than I have done in recent months.
Reece tries to wrap a comforting arm around my shoulders, but I push back. I can’t handle being touched right now. Even the material of my favorite sweatshirt feels like too much contact, the fibers scratching against my skin.
“I’m going for a walk. Please don’t follow.” I push away from the counter and rush to the entryway, grabbing my lined raincoat on the way. The rain stopped a few hours ago, but this time of year, you just never can quite trust the weatherman in Georgia.
I don’t have a destination in mind, since I’ve never taken the time to explore Havenwood. Reece moved here a few years ago, but the only thing we ever do when I come to visit is stay in at his house. On the rare occasion that I travel anywhere here, I find myself at the little bar and diner owned by Jace Riley. I’ll add it to my to-do list to explore the town so many people love.
And that’s the thing. Loving this town is a requirement for living here. Outsiders know almost nothing about it. It’s like stepping into a small town romance novel, complete with a bar and grill, coffee shop, bed-and-breakfast, and a town square where constant community activities take place. Old cattleproperties make up the outer border of the town, and the Flynn family ranch—River Haven Ranch—makes up the south part of town.
I wander around the square, taking in the leftover Christmas decorations—twinkling lights in the trees and wreaths on the lampposts—all around me as my mind runs through too many thoughts and scenarios for me to fully grasp any of them.
The beauty of the small town perfection isn’t enough to keep me in the here and now. My mind is stuck on replay. I walked away from Reece and Mama. Again. Just like I did with Joey. Just like I always do when I get overwhelmed.
Against better judgment, I make my way to Riley’s. I slip through the door unnoticed and take a seat at the far end of the bar. My head falls into my hands while I try to drown out the multiple voices and trains of thought flitting through my mind.
Maybe a few shots of whiskey will quiet things for me. Lord knows it’s been a hell of a day.
5
Noah
Thursday nights are meant to be relaxing.
I work four tens, which means Friday kicks off my weekend. The list of to-dos this weekend is extensive, and I should get a head start, but instead I’m on the sidewalk outside of Riley’s.
I promised my buddy Jace I’d come into the bar tonight. His family has owned it for generations, and when his dad decided not to run it anymore, Jace took over. He turned it into the most active evening hangout spot in our little town. It serves as a studying location, a dinner and date spot, and a hang-and-drink kind of place.
As I slip through the door, I register the soothing tones of Johnny Cash playing through the speakers. I pause at the giant bulletin board that has always been a catch-all of sorts to pin aRental Availablecard to it.
Weaving through the tables, I make my way to the bar stools at the back. Jace smiles when he sees me. The dude is six-four and built like a linebacker. The teddy bear also cried at the end ofHomeward Bound. I met him my first day in Havenwood shortly after settling in at my aunt’s house. The move had been unexpected, but at fifteen, I was already battling demons that couldn’t be slayed if I stayed in Steele Valley.
To say he’d intimidated me would be an understatement. He walked up to me without reason and started talking about root beer floats and asking if I wanted to get one, too. I was more of a keep-to-myself kind of guy, but Jace and his best friend Drew always included me in every situation.
“Dude, what’s got you all smiley and shit? You bang a chick in one of your elevators today or something?” He laughs at his own joke, knowing I’m not one to mess around with random women. Funny, though, how close he is to what I wish had happened.
“What’re you talking about, man?”
“You haven’t quit smiling since you sat down. It’s weird. You’re usually mister grump and misery.”
“Rude.”
“True.” He sets to pouring me a rum and Coke before sliding over a paper coaster and placing the glass on top of it.
I chuckle to myself, wiping a hand over my face to sober my voice. “Had an entrapment during that band of storms this morning. There was a woman in it, alone. Probably a few years younger than me.”
Jace’s eyes light with amusement at the realization that his theory at least holds some merit.
“Noah, man. I was kidding about shacking up. Tell me you didn’t.”
I full on belly laugh at that. “No, Jace. I did notshack upwith the girl I rescued. But I am still kicking myself for not getting her name. She looked a little familiar, but I know I’d have remembered this one.”
