Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1) (17 page)

“Thank you, for breaking my fall.”

He took a step closer to me. “Someone has to save you sometimes, since you’re constantly doing it for someone else.”

He looked past me then, to where I knew Justin had to be, and my chest tightened. I didn’t regret telling him the truth about Justin’s threats every time I tried to leave, but when Dash said things like that it made me question . . . everything. And my mind was overrun with the guilt and the worry and the curiosity of how different things could be if Justin wasn’t the way he was, if he was more like Dash. If he
was
Dash. The thoughts raced together in a jumbled mess of a traffic-jam and I had no idea which way was straight anymore. So instead of trying to talk it all out with Dash, I simply gazed at him, and admired the ease of his presence next to me.

“How’d you adapt this stoic calm you possess?” I asked as we continued our walk. The trucks came into sight, Justin’s headlights and music blaring.

“Please, woman. Think about what I do for a living.”

“Right, duh,” I said, but my laughter died as Dash and I stopped a few feet away from Justin’s truck.

Lindsay leaned against the driver’s side door, her hip cocked against one of Justin’s thighs as she peered over him, sipping on a beer as he talked.

“Just installed these myself,” Justin said and pointed to something near his dashboard. Most likely the new stereo he’d bought recently.

I shook off the shock of someone as gorgeous as Lindsay so close to Justin rather quickly and wondered idly if it should bother me more. I glanced at Dash. He stared at the two with a distant gaze, more inside his head than standing in the tall grass next to me.

“What’s up?” I nudged him with my elbow.

He blinked a couple times and gave me a half smile. “Nothing . . .” He chuckled quietly to himself. “Absolutely nothing.”

I
SLIPPED MY
black calf-high boots over my best skinny jeans and tugged at my sleeveless black lacy top. I wanted to look hot tonight. Blue October only came to town once or twice a year and I looked forward to it more than my birthday. I’d even dyed my hair an espresso brown a couple nights ago for a fresh look. Not much darker than my natural color, but the change lifted my spirits, and with the concert only hours away I was practically flying. And despite Justin’s outburst over the tickets a few weeks ago, I was determined to have a good time.

I finished my look with some red lipstick—choosing to go bolder than I ever had before—just as I heard the jingle of keys outside my front door. My heart galloped. Justin was here. I half expected him to call and bail on me after the disaster of his meeting Dash last week. I told myself tonight would be different. Who couldn’t have fun at a concert?

I heard Hail growl from the couch and him hiss back at her.

“Stop it, both of you,” I yelled from my bedroom.

“She started it,” he said.

I shut my door and caught Justin staring at the large tub of Nutella brownies my mom had dropped off the day before. She had the habit of coming over to my place when I had a long day of classes to “drop things off” and ended up cleaning, too. I’d continuously tried to get her to stop, but the baked goods were beyond hard to turn down.

The look in Justin’s eyes as he skimmed over the sweet note she left on top of the tub made my chest clench.

Longing, wonder. Anger, regret.

Each emotion flashed in his eyes in the span of a few heartbeats before he decided to stick to one. He shoved the tub away on the kitchen counter, like it had personally offended him.

I gulped down the guilt, letting it settle in its usual spot in the center of my chest. These moments weren’t completely unheard of. Moments when I’d catch him longing for that special bond only a family could provide.

Holidays. Tough times. Each could’ve been an opportunity to try to reconcile after all these years, but he never tried. And from my many phone calls in the past, I knew his aunt and uncle wouldn’t try if
he
didn’t, so I’d given up on the idea long ago. Justin knew all this, of course, but it didn’t change things. He was set in the way his life worked and wouldn’t budge. That left me set with my guilt, and the constant overwhelming urge to fill that gap for him, despite it never being enough.

He finally registered my presence, catching me watching him.

“You look nice, Blake,” he said, his eyes distant, gentler. He blinked and the rare tender moment was gone. He stepped away from the counter quickly, scrunching his eyebrows. “Are you ready? I want to get there and get a spot near the exit so we’re not stuck in a logjam when this thing is over.” He swung his keys back and forth between his fingers.

I sank a fraction, wishing his default mood wasn’t anger. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

I climbed into his truck, shocked it’d been cleared of food bags and other trash.

“We’ll do breakfast tomorrow, too. And then maybe a movie?” he said as he navigated the roads.

I had to shut my mouth it had dropped so fast. “I’d love that.”

“Good. I’ve been wanting to see the new Bruce Willis movie for a while.”

I wondered if the moment I’d caught him having earlier was the reason for his long-lost sweetness. I kept my hopes in check, though, knowing that those kind of promises usually came with a price. I sighed with the thought, wishing I could just enjoy his spontaneity and focus on the fact that maybe he was finally, if not slowly, changing into the man I knew he could be when I’d fallen in love with him as a boy.

The line outside The Starlite wrapped around the brick building’s corner despite Justin’s insistence to rush. I’d told him we would’ve had to arrive two hours early to be the first in line, but he didn’t believe me. He’d been so sure he hadn’t even let me grab something from the drive-through and I was starving. It’d be hours before I could eat now.

Excited butterflies flapped in my stomach, helping distract me from my hunger. Each time I saw Blue perform was like the first time—the eager anticipation, the rush of adrenaline, and then the release after an incredible high—something I savored.

“Holy shit. This is ridiculous.” Justin looked over the line as we took our places in the back.

“Told you.” I shrugged. The minimum hour-long wait didn’t bother me because I knew that after it my favorite band would be two opening acts away from taking the stage and performing the music I loved.

Justin cut his eyes to me. “You didn’t tell me we’d be standing here for hours just to get inside and stand for another four hours listening to a band you can hear on your iPod.”

“Geez, loosen up. Concerts are a blast.” I tried to hug his arm, but he pulled away.

“It’ll be fun when I can get a beer.” He grabbed our tickets out of his back pocket. “I bought these weeks ago. I should be able to get in before all these jokers paying at the window.”

“You can’’t—”

“Stay here.” He took off toward the front of the building.

I didn’t try to stop him. Maybe it would take up half the wait time for him to figure out we’d have to stand in line like everybody else. Glancing across the street, I noticed several people wearing Blue October shirts crowding around a small display. The guy behind it also wore the band’s gear. Since we were still the last ones in line, I decided to give in to my curiosity and headed over.

An array of baked goods, from cookies to brownies, sat on the display. One girl shoved half a dozen cookies in her purse as she walked away. A small neon sign read: Support Local Artists.

My stomach growled. “What artist is this for?”

The guy behind the display had blond dreads covered partially by a Blue October beanie. “My band and a few others. We’re raising money for new instruments. We have a similar sound to Blue.”

I grabbed an individually packaged brownie the size of my hand and over an inch thick. “Awesome,” I said and handed him a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change. Good luck with your music.”

I hurried back to the line only to find someone had taken my spot. “Hey, jerk, this was my spot!” I yelled in my best high-pitched whine.

Dash whipped around, his eyebrows scrunched together. “You want to fight over
this
?” He eyed the very end of the line we occupied. “And that was a terrible voice by the way. Knew it was you.”

“Sure you did,” I said and unwrapped my brownie. “Where is Lindsay?” I glanced around, shocked she wasn’t attached to his hip.

Dash cleared his throat. “Well, she and I—”

“They won’t let us in.” Justin’s voice cut off Dash, and I turned to see him behind me. “Even though I bought
you
these tickets way ahead of time.” The mention of buying the tickets for me turned my stomach. I knew he’d just been delivering a low blow when he’d blamed this present as the reason he had to sell his watch, but it was hard to take, and I resisted the urge to apologize for something I knew I wasn’t responsible for. He had plenty of things he could’ve sold and more so, his truck wouldn’t have been towed if he’d simply parked in a space that wasn’t restricted.

Instead of saying anything along those lines I shoved a huge bite of brownie in my mouth. Not the best I’d ever tasted, kind of dry actually, but I was starving so I didn’t care. I slowed down, nibbling it as Dash filled the tense silence with one of his awesome chase stories. Nearly an hour later the line moved forward inch by inch and we finally reached the front. Justin had been glued to his phone the entire wait, and I glanced up at him, wondering how I could make him enjoy this night more.

“I just noticed you changed your hair, Blake. It looks amazing,” Dash said, regaining my attention.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I colored it. Thanks,” I said before taking another bite of the brownie, which was now more than half gone.

“You colored your hair?” Justin finally pried his eyes away from his phone, looking at the hair framing my face. He glanced at Dash before returning to me. He didn’t smile. “You know I liked it the way it was.”

My chest tightened and I shook my head. Why did anything involving the slightest hint of change have to irk him so much? I wracked my brain, wondering if he’d always been this way or had I just started to notice it because Dash was so starkly different?
His
notice of me was so welcome I had the urge to wrap my arms around him.

The idea made my entire body tingle, and then I laughed so hard I shook.

“What the hell, Blake?” Justin asked after I couldn’t stop the giggles for two minutes straight.

I sucked in gulps of air and wiped under my eyes, finally reeling myself in as we moved into the lobby of the building. “Sorry,” I said. “Don’t know where that came from.” “Where did you get that?” Justin eyed the half-eaten brownie in my hand.

“From the guys across the street raising money for their instruments,” I said, motioning toward the building’s doors.

Justin raked his hands across his buzzed head. “You idiot!”

I burst out laughing at the sight of his scowl. He really had that look down. He needed a beer quick. I thought about getting a drink, too, but I suddenly realized I felt like I’d already drank four.

“What?”

Justin lowered his head. “That brownie is laced. Probably with a whole bunch of different drugs. Now look at you.”

My laughter died instantly and I froze, staring at the brownie in my hand like it would bite me. “Drugs? Like cocaine? Meth? Oh my God, did I just eat meth?”

“Probably,” Justin said. “You shouldn’t buy shit off strangers like that.”

Dash gently grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “It’s just a pot-brownie. You’ll be fine, Blake.”

“No, no no no. It’s meth. I’m going to freak out like that guy on Breaking Bad . . .”

“You are not. Relax.” He chuckled, and the sound cut through my terror.

“How can you be sure?”

“Always a first for everything.” Dash grabbed the remaining half of the brownie from me and shoved it in his mouth.

“Better?” he asked after swallowing. He flashed me a huge smile, tons of brownie still stuck between his teeth.

Justin’s eyes jumped between the two of us again and he shook his head. “You’re both fucking idiots.”

It wasn’t at all funny but I laughed again, and this time I didn’t stop until we’d found our spots on the floor.