Page 28 of Calculated Chaos

“Hi,” she says, her voice breathless.

“Hey.”

“I’m Julie.” She extends her hand like we’re at an interview.

“Axel,” I reply, shaking her hand.

“Cool name.” She wipes her brow, her big brown eyes focused on me as she nibbles her bottom lip. “I’m not usually so forward, but I was wondering if you’re available for a drink or something. Sometime.” Her cheeks flush pink as she speaks and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I just, um, you’re…” She smiles. “Phenomenal.”

“Thanks. Uh…” I search my head for some kind of response. There’s no reason in the world why I should turn her down. She’s gorgeous, seems kind of sweet, and I can’t remember the last time I went out on a date that was more than a hookup. “You know what? Yeah, let’s do that.”

She looks shocked for a second before she exhales and smiles. “Great. I can put my number in your phone.”

“Yeah.” I hand it to her, watching as she taps it in.

“Okay, Axel,” she says, gazing at the screen pic of me and Holl when we vacationed in Cozumel back in college. “Who’s this?”

“My best friend.” I take the phone back. “I’ll call soon.”

Julie smiles, walking away and looking over her shoulder once as she heads for the yoga room.

Normally, I’d be pumped to score the number of such a beautiful woman, but my heart just isn’t in it right now. Maybe the weekend got to me more than I realized. Think I’ll take my own advice and work on my journal when I get home.

When I get home an hour later, I plop on the couch and grab my journal, flipping to the first page. I’m still stuck on the first question: what one thing can you do today to shift your energy?

So far, I’ve spent my day the way I always do. Up at seven, coffee and a protein shake, then the gym. I usually spend the afternoon fucking around doing nothing special until it’s time for dinner, and waiting impatiently for Hollister to come home. I’ve been spinning my wheels for way too long.

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and replay the night at the dungeon, which quickly brings me back to the massage yesterday and Pix’s hands all over me. That felt great, but what bugged me was listening to Hollister’s soft moans of pleasure as Tank manhandled him. It was that same twinge of jealousy I felt towards Blaze.

I’ve always been protective of Hollister. He just naturally brings that out in me since he travels through the world in a fragile shell. I know he can take care of himself, but I don’t want him to feel like he has to. He can lean on me.

What’s bugging me is that it’s not protectiveness I’m feeling. It’s jealousy. Like I don’t want anyone touching him or making him happy but me. Which makes zero sense. I’ve fixed him up on a ton of dates over the years, trying to make sure he gets touched. Is it because they were men? Why would that make it different?

Rubbing my forehead, I sit up again and stare at the journal. I need to dissect this chaos in my head. I just need to start. I grab my laptop from the coffee table and fire it up, waiting for it to load. Without hesitating, I start looking up information on being a Dom. Real subtle, subconscious.

My fingers float over the titles until I pause on a headline that says, “Are you a Dom, a Sub, or a Switch? Find out at our seminar.”

I click the link, chuckling when I see it’s a class put on by Chaos, the club we went to on Friday. As I read the details, I learn that it’s just a discussion on what the various roles look like, along with common traits to help you identify your own lane. After that, there’s a tour of the dungeon.

The image of being back in the dark room with a leather crop in my hand, Hollister spread out and ready before me, makes my cock swell. My breath catches, both out of surprise and desire, and I rub my bulge through my jeans, squeezing gently.

Chaos is a gay club, but maybe that makes it better. Easier to explore without the distraction of a pretty woman there. I close my eyes, trying to conjure the redhead from the gym splayed out over the cross, me behind her with a crop, but the image is equivalent to a bucket of cold water. Yeah, definitely not into it.

I try again, imagining Pix in the role, but that doesn’t work either. He doesn’t strike me as the kind to be the one getting smacked. Nope. That role is owned by my best friend, at least in my head, and fuck if I know how to process that.

Standing, I blow out a long breath and pace the living room, aware of all the tingling nerves in my body. Okay, there has to be a logical explanation for my response to Holl in this light. Maybe… maybe it’s because we’ve always been so close. We’ve shared every vulnerable moment two guys can have.

He was the one I told about my first awkward kiss with Candace Whipple in sixth grade. He shared his with Madelyn Wright in the seventh grade at a dance. We talked about touching boobs for the first time, shared our nerves over losing our virginity, and snuck a peek at porn at the adult store in town. We discovered life together. So this isn’t different.

That’s gotta be it. I’m reacting to our closeness and the fact that we went through this new experience together. Why it’s making my dick hard has to be a matter of biology. It turns me on. The experience. Not Hollister. He’s my friend and a guy. I don’t get a hard dick over guys. Right. That’s… reasonable. Kind of.

I return my attention to the screen, clicking the link to sign up. I feel like this might be the one thing I do on my own. Without Hollister there as a distraction, I can explore whether sex dungeons and BDSM are really my thing, or if it was just a one-off reaction. I want to know if there’s a whole part of me waiting to be discovered, and the only way I’m going to do that is to jump in feet first. It’s kind of my speciality.

Chapter Fourteen

HOLLISTER

I’ve been staring at the clock on my computer for at least thirty minutes. As the time ticks closer to noon, nausea takes over. Who the fuck do I think I am planning to intentionally miss a deadline? I already know it’s close to impossible that I’ll get anything else done today waiting for five o’clock to come.

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