Chaos’s fingers grip my hips, tensing into the flesh of my lower back as my palms settle on his shoulders. Why am I always in this man’s arms?
“I was going to make some dinner.” My voice is husky when I speak, and his gaze follows every syllable that skims over my lips.
“That sounds good.” The sweet demeanor he always holds isn’t there anymore. A dark look that I can’t quite place is in his eyes.
A beat passes and it takes too much effort for my fingers to release him, my palms trailing down the curve of his biceps before finally falling away.
Logically, I know how awful it would be for me to become too attached to any of them. The more time I spend with Chaos, the more I forget that logic entirely.
I keep my mind busy as I stuff already baked bread into a pan and begin to press cheese and herbs into the center. The heat of the fire is barely warm as I place the food over the embers. I stay there, seated near the flames, and keep my attention safely held on the fiery coals.
“What the hell is this?” He pokes Bobbles head and the fat little fish submerges below the water, deflating the moment the water covers his white body.
“That’s Bobble.”
“Bubble?”
“No, Bobble. He’s a tumid fish. The air seems to make him swell up to a life-threatening size.”
His dark brow arches as watches the fish bob right back to the top, his scales stretching as he blows up so much his face presses against the glass, his beady eyes pleading for help.
Another push of Chaos’ finger sends the fish back into the safety of his bowl. “He’s … not very bright, is he?”
I shake my head.
“He’s sweet though. He just needs a little help in life.”
Chaos passes the fish a worried look as he walks across the small room.
“What will you do with all this money?”
He leans against the small counter near the kitchen window, his gaze fixed on me, his features shadowed in the dim lighting.
“I guess I’ll travel.” Run away is more like it. I’ll run away for a final time. Far away where my demons will never find me.
“Not going to visit family? A boyfriend maybe?” His hinting words are serious. It seems to be the first completely serious thing I’ve ever heard him say.
“No boyfriend. My family—” I think about my mother and father who live on the other side of the country. They’re safer there. My mother is older and it’s easy for her to hide her magic. She’s content to let it disappear entirely.
I’m not.
“They live along the coast.” My lips part as I realize how honest that statement was. I’m telling him too much.
His brows rise. Coastal life is more luxurious, and everyone knows it. The coast is lined with towering tropical houses, beautifully painted and nicely kept up. The imports there and the seafood are sold at a fair and impressive price to the in-landers. My father made a name for himself selling ships.
I miss him. I miss my parents.
“It’s beautiful there.” His response is quiet and surprises me slightly. It’s a safe thing to say. Instead of prying, he chose to make a statement that everyone can agree with.
“It’s amazing there.” It’s like this place that I haven’t seen in years where the water and the heavens meet, tangling together into this beautiful and untouchable horizon.
I pull my knees to my chest, locking my hands around my shins as I wait for the cheese to melt into the bread.
“That smells really good.” The boards creak as he comes closer. Slowly, he lowers himself down beside me. The smell of warm smoke and timber and something completely Chaos washes over me.
“Thanks.”
“I think deep down you like taking care of us fucktiles.” His arm brushes mine as I turn to glare up at him, a smile trying to pull at the thin line consuming my lips.
