Page 3 of Calculated Chaos

“I would never let you look ridiculous, Holl. You look awesome. Can I style your hair for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet.” He’s in my bathroom and back in a flash, holding my brush and hair gel.

“I need a haircut,” I complain while he drags gel through my damp, wavy hair.

“Nah, this is good.” Just a few minutes later, he smiles. “Nice. Go check yourself out.”

I stand, walking with some trepidation to the bathroom, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I see myself. I look… kind of good. Instead of the bushy waves I usually sport, he’s styled my hair into something purposely messy. Not too shabby, even if I do have to stand next to a model all night.

“We should go,” Axel calls out. “Traffic is a beast in the city.”

I shrink a little hearing that we’re going into New Onyx. I guess I knew on some level. It’s not like there’s a thriving nightlife in the suburbs, but the energy of the city overwhelms me.

I find Axel in the living room, standing by the front door and holding my phone out to me. “I ordered a car and they just got here. Ready for this?”

Blowing out a breath, I nod. “As ready as I’m gonna be.”

Axel wraps an arm around my shoulders as I reach him, leading me outside. “Don’t be scared. It’s gonna be epic. Forty is gonna be the best year yet. I can feel it.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” Axel winks. “Oh, the things I have planned for you.”

I follow him to the car, losing the battle to fight back a smile. Axel really is the best friend a guy could have. All I have to do is follow his lead. I can handle this.

Chapter Two

AXEL

I’ve never been so fucking nervous in my life.

My plan to shake things up for Hollister is either going to be epic or end in disaster, and even with as long as I’ve known the guy, I can’t predict which one is most likely. Holl likes museums and art galleries, live jazz and symphonies. He likes operas, for fuck’s sake. Instead, he’s getting nightclubs and exposure therapy to things he actively avoids.

When his mom and stepdad approached me with concerns about the direction he’s headed, I knew I had to step up and push him—no, shove him—out of his comfort zone. He needs to see that there’s life outside the office and it can be fun.

But as we finish dinner at one of the trendiest restaurants in the city that I snagged a reservation for by sweet talking a gal I dated for two weeks, I’m getting nervous. I can feel the tension pouring off Holl.

“Did you like your meal?” I ask, hoping to loosen him up.

“Yeah, actually,” Holl says, nodding. “It was intimidating at first though.”

“New experiences can be like that, but I’m here.”

“I know.”

He glances around the restaurant for a moment, taking in the dim lighting and silk material swooping from the ceiling. Tiny chandeliers dot the room we’re in, but it’s all contrasted with stone walls and wood floors. Like someone carved a fancy restaurant out of a cave.

“Are my folks really worried about me?” he asks after a bit.

“Not worried,” I lie. “More like concerned.”

“Those are synonyms, Ax.”

I chuckle. “Okay, yeah, a little. You know how sensitive your mom is about your dad’s choices. She just doesn’t want that for you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not him.”

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