Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1)

by Molly E. Lee

“Not what I meant.” He gently rocked me backward before bringing me up against his chest again. “What would make it better?”

  The notion seemed silly now. “Never mind.”

  “Tell me, woman!”

  “If I knew your name!” I relented.

  “Of course, anything for a friend,” he said in a mocking tone. He tugged me closer, inching his leg between my thighs until our bodies were flush. My pulse quickened, and I swallowed hard. His lips grazed my ear. “It’s”—he held me in agonizing anticipation—“Lexington, Dash Lexington.” He burst out laughing.

  “Ha, ha.” I smacked his chest.

  One song faded into another, and we danced until my legs were on fire. Dash never faltered, and damn it if he didn’t show me a good time. When he finally carted me off the dance floor, sweat popped from both our foreheads.

  We found Paul chatting up the bombshell where we left him. She actually had a genuine smile that lit up her eyes as he said something funny. I found myself hoping he’d score her number as I took a seat next to him, Dash standing close behind me due to the lack of available space.

  Once they took a breath from their in-depth conversation about why the best tequila chaser was the lime, I ordered Dash and me two more beers. They were cold and so refreshing after the vigorous dance session.

  “Not a bad way to mend the wounds of a bust.” I held the tip of my bottle toward him.

  “Can’t remember ever having more fun after such a letdown,” Dash said and clinked his bottle against mine.

  JUSTIN SAT ACROSS from me at our regular high-top table at Bailey’s. I couldn’t freaking believe it. He’d showed up as a way of an apology for being a complete asshole last weekend.

  I wrung my hands out underneath the table, my knee bouncing uncontrollably. I wanted Justin to like Dash and enjoy being out of the house, but I was equally hoping Dash or Lindsay wouldn’t slip up and say something about all the non-educational outings we had. I’d grilled Dash on the reasons why that would be a bad idea even though he already understood and I could only hope Lindsay would respect it as well. Of course, I wanted everything out in the open, but on my terms. After tonight, I prayed I could tell Justin how close I’d grown to Dash and the guys without any problems. Once he saw how awesome Dash was he couldn’t scold me for the friendship.

  John and Paul played shuffleboard as Dash told me about his latest idea for the design of the probes they were working on. Lindsay sipped her cranberry and vodka, sitting next to him with a dazed look.

  “You’re really into all this weather shit, too, huh?” Justin interrupted Dash.

  Dash cut his eyes to Justin. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  Justin finished off his third IPA. “Don’t you think it is a little cliché?”

  “What?” Dash asked.

  I swallowed hard. Arrogance colored Justin’s tone.

  “Oh, come on! We live in Oklahoma and you’re a storm chaser? Technically isn’t every other person in this place one? At least being a meteorologist is a real job. Chasing isn’t very original,” he said and took another drink.

  I opened my mouth to defend our shared passion, but Dash was quicker.

  “There’s a little more to it than standing on your back porch and snapping a photo with your iPhone.”

  Justin shrugged. “Whatever. You ride around in a car and point a camera out the window. Hardly rocket science.”

  I placed my hand on top of Justin’s wrist. “There is actually a ton of science involved.” He’d understand that if he ever paid attention to any of the weather maps I brought home or the station models I studied.

  Lindsay giggled and nearly spit her drink all over the table. How many had she had?

  “Dashy, he’s right; you do point a camera out the window. It’s not like you’re in a lab conducting experiments or anything. Though the way you and Blake talk about it, you’d think you were.” She patted Dash’s shoulder like he was a silly puppy.

  I ground my teeth together and stopped myself from smacking my forehead. Dash and the guys worked in the weather lab on campus almost every day, and I’d been joining them more frequently, helping them interpret the tons of data they gathered. They also designed probes, tested instruments, plotted courses, and ran through preparation scenarios. Hell, all three of them were up to date in first responder training, too, just in case they were the first ones on a damaged site after a storm. They spent the entire winter preparing for the storm season, and Lindsay had the nerve to brush it off like it was as easy as buying a video camera and driving to the nearest pasture.

  “You know, actually—” I started with a snark in my tone before she cut me off.

  “What do you do, Justin?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

  Justin lifted his chin a fraction. “I work over at SprayGoods.”

  “That huge warehouse off 77?”

  “That’s the one. I’m on the line every day. Using my hands to build things. You know, actually making a real contribution to the world.”

  I stifled a snort by taking another swig of my Native Amber. Lord, he made it sound like he built solar panels for industrial companies or high-grade water filtration systems for the ocean. He pressed a button and watched the line to make sure the machinery didn’t back up while it assembled the nozzles that went on squirt bottles. He hated it, but tonight he acted like it was an honor to work there.

  Dash chuckled. “Nothing like assembly work to really make a man feel more . . . manly.” He finished off his beer and signaled to Diana for another one.

  I raised my bottle, too, though I hadn’t even finished it yet—the tension between the two men was palpable. I’d wanted tonight to be a fun, easy way to introduce them, not a competition for who has a bigger piece in their pants. The thought made me ponder Dash’s equipment for one second too long, and heat rushed to my cheeks. I couldn’t lock those thoughts down even if I had a safe.

  I took the last few gulps of my beer quickly. Why had I even bothered begging Justin to come out? He was obviously pissed about it and being rude as a punishment.

  “This coming from someone who sings in the rain?” Justin laughed, and to my shock so did Lindsay.

  “Dashy doesn’t sing! But that would be funny.” She stroked Dash’s arm. “You could narrate your little clips by singing!”

  “Have you even seen his site?” I snapped, my filter growing smaller with each beer I drank. The videos on Dash’s website were all up-close footage of tornadoes in their strongest capacity. Little clips my ass.

  “I’ve been on there . . . once.” Lindsay shrugged. “Dashy knows I don’t believe in that stuff anyway,” she said, smiling at him.

  Dash pressed his lips together, and I could tell he held back a laugh with difficulty. I eyed him with an are you serious look.

  “Believe in it? Are you saying extreme weather is something you can choose not to believe exists if you don’t see it in person? Like ghosts or unicorns?” Whoops, I’d blurted that out a little too bluntly.

  Dash sprayed his last sip of beer back into the bottle as he laughed.

  Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Of course not,” she snapped. “Unicorns definitely don’t exist.”

  I sighed, and Dash wiped his mouth off with a napkin. Diana brought the next round to our awkwardly silent table. Damn it, could this night get any worse?

  “This place is lame.” Justin broke the silence.

  I cringed. He’d declare his undying love for his Xbox in three . . . two . . .

  “We should all go somewhere else,” he suggested, shocking the hell out of me.

  “You’re so right,” Lindsay agreed. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “Blake, you mentioned ghosts. How about the Ponderosa bridge?”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Why not?” Justin asked.

  “Because that was fun when we were kids . . .”

  We’d made the trek there on our bicycles numerous times when we were younger. It was an old wood
en bridge still intact over Black Bear Creek and legend had it Ms. Ponderosa was supposed to meet her fiancé there to elope in secret when her parents denied him her hand in marriage. He’d either never shown and she’d jumped off the bridge, or he did show and threw her off in a fury at being denied her inheritance. Either way, we’d never encountered anything, just royally freaked ourselves out.

  “Making the trip out there now sounds like a pain in the ass,” I continued. Now that we had cars instead of bicycles, we’d have to park blocks away and make the rest of the trip on foot. A less than desirable idea in the dark and buzzed.

  “Yeah, man, people stop doing that around age twelve.” Dash backed me up.

  Justin scowled at him before shrugging. “If you’re a scared little bitch, then just say so.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Justin!”

  “What? I say we take a six-pack out there and have a little fun. The two of you are acting like I suggested we run a half marathon. Sounds more like an excuse because both of you are scared.”

  Lord, he acted like a twelve-year-old.

  “It sounds fun to me!” Lindsay chimed in, and Dash and I shook our heads at the same time.

  “Fine.” Dash sighed. “Let’s go.” He swished back the rest of his beer and slammed it on the table.

  After my invite was received with a laughing decline from John and Paul, I left a ten dollar bill on our table for Diana. Dash stopped Justin outside the door by placing a hand on his chest. I held my breath as Justin’s eyes turned to slits.

  “Just for the record,” Dash said, “you may not want to call a man who chases tornadoes for a living a scared little bitch. It could come back to haunt you.” He walked to his truck, and opened the door for Lindsay.

  I grinned despite myself, but it instantly faded when Justin caught my eyes.

  “What a fucking tool,” Justin said. “I can’t wait until this semester is over and you don’t have to study or run in the same circle with this guy anymore.” He brushed past me without a second glance and climbed into his truck. My heart sank at his words. He’d never approve of my friendship with Dash, and if I admitted the truth now, he’d force me to choose between them.

  I opened the door of Justin’s truck, the conditions revolving around my relationship smothering me, and I wondered what it would be like to be Lindsay for just one night.

  The moon shone bright silver against the night sky and a cool breeze made chill bumps burst on my arms. I rubbed my hands back and forth on them, wishing for my jacket. The grass nearly came up to my knees as we made the long walk to the bridge. Dash had a flashlight he’d brought from his truck, but other than that the stars and moon lit the path before us.

  Justin carried a six-pack he’d picked up at the gas station on the way over. He’d already cracked open a beer, and every time he took a drink my stomach churned. A fine line rested between a fun Justin and a blowup-worthy Justin on a normal day. When he drank too much that line disappeared. I prayed by us actively doing what he’d suggested that Dash wouldn’t have to see it.

  “You know,” Lindsay said, “I heard that the lady was pregnant and that’s why he pushed her off the bridge.” She clutched Dash’s hand and giggled.

  “That’s awful.” I had no clue how she could find that notion funny.

  She whipped her head around. “You’re so sensitive. Lighten up.”

  Justin tossed an empty bottle on the ground. “She really is! God, Blake, you need to learn how to let things go.”

  I hung back a beat and picked up the bottle to throw in the trash on our way out. Whenever that would be. Lindsay and Justin may be enjoying themselves, but both their attitudes were borderline juvenile and I found myself exhausted at the high-school feel of it all. I seriously considered turning around and driving myself back to Bailey’s to enjoy another Native Amber and a big-ass burger. I smacked my forehead when I remembered I hadn’t driven and I’d most likely have to drive Justin’s truck home with the way he tossed the beers back.

  “Not that any of the stories are true,” Dash said, suddenly beside me. “But that one is particularly gruesome.”

  I spun the bottle slowly in my hand. “Right? Thank you.” I shook my head. “You’d think I cried over a puppy commercial.”

  He motioned his head to the side. “Come on, I’ve never chased a ghost before. You’ll have to show me how.”

  “Ha! I haven’t, either. Well, not since I was little. And back then we basically stood around and made each other jump at random times.”

  Lindsay giggled from several yards ahead of us, drawing our attention. Apparently Justin was a riot. Funny, he hadn’t made me laugh in a long time. Maybe I’d just heard all of his jokes.

  Oak trees bordered the land across the old bridge and there were a few scattered amongst the tall grass on the side we approached from. The railing was made of rusty old metal spaced out in large Xs with a flat piece on top, and wooden planks connected the walkway. Black Bear Creek trickled underneath it more than forty feet below, a slow and steady stream that added to the crickets chirping in the night.

  Despite the dark rumors surrounding it, I’d always enjoyed the bridge as a kid. Probably because I’d watched a thunderstorm roll in from the west one time. The afternoon sky had lit up with white-hot lightning strikes and illuminated the thick cumulonimbus clouds—which back then I’d called “the big scary ones.” Everyone else had grabbed their bikes and hauled ass home, but I’d stayed behind and watched the storm unfold until it rained so hard I had to walk my bike home.

  Of course I had. How had I not known from the beginning I was born to study storms?

  The shattering of broken glass cut through my thoughts, and Dash and I picked up our pace, catching up to Justin and Lindsay who stood in the middle of the bridge.

  Justin peered over the railing. I followed his gaze and sighed. He’d tossed an empty over, and it’d smashed on a huge rock sticking up out of the creek. Another beer down quick. I swallowed hard instead of chastising for the broken glass.

  “Nice,” Dash said sarcastically, and I sucked in a breath. He was unaware of the lengths I took not to trigger an eruption from Justin.

  “Something wrong, chase-boy?” Justin turned toward Dash, his eyebrows drawn.

  Dash smirked. “Not a thing. So where is this ghost of yours?”

  Justin motioned toward the railing. “A girl has to stand where she did in order to draw her out.” His words bordered on the thick side, and I tried to do a mental recap of how many he’d had tonight.

  “‘Course. Makes sense,” Dash said and tossed me another are you serious look. I grabbed two beers out of the pack Justin had set on the bridge. I handed one to Dash and shrugged. Living in the moment, plus if we drank them then that made two more Justin couldn’t.

  “Ew, I’m not doing it! I’ll ruin my heels, plus my skirt isn’t really climbing material. Blake, you have to! You can’t mess up those old boots any more than they already are.”

  The hack about my boots only stung a little. I glanced down at the scuffed black leather, my jeans shoved into them. They were well broken in, just the way I liked them, and they were damn sure more comfortable than the four-inch red pumps she wore. How did she even make it through the grass without falling or at least getting mud on them?

  “No thanks.” I took a generous pull on my beer, then scrunched up my face and glared at the bottle. Justin had picked the cheapest, skunkiest beer he could find.

  A light mist fell around us, and Dash and I both instinctively looked at the sky. No storm clouds indicating anything major would drop down on us other than the light sprinkle.

  “Oh, you’re no fun!” Lindsay whined and stomped her foot, drawing our attention back to earth. Did she really just do that?

  “Come on, Blake. You used do it all the time,” Justin said.

  “When I was ten!”

  Justin threw his head back. “Ugh, you were more fun back then. Now, you’re just . . .”

  A hot
anger simmered in the pit of my stomach. Him and Lindsay were a perfect pair tonight, and I wanted to tell them both to go to hell.

  “Boring,” he finally finished.

  Dash flinched beside me, and Lindsay’s mouth dropped.

  The anger soared to a roaring boil. “Boring? Your idea of excitement is not getting killed in a COD match,” I snapped, my thoughts traveling to the bedroom and how he’d only make love to me one way—flipped over and fast.

  Justin’s face turned a dark shade of red, and the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Don’t be a bitch.” His eyes dared me to take his bait for a fight.

  I shook my head.

  Fuck it.

  I smacked my beer down on the wooden plank and walked to the railing. The metal was slick against my palms with the light mist of rain but I ignored that. I was not boring, and maybe it was the fact that I had three beers in me, but I was damned if I’d let him call me that.

  “Blake, don’t,” Dash said as I hitched my foot within the X shape, climbing up until I straddled the wet beam. I completely ignored him and the cold wet metal soaking through my jeans.

  I pushed onto my feet and tried not to think about plummeting off the railing. Instead I assured myself that the wonderful air barrier between me and a forty-foot drop to the creek below would be sufficient protection. Rolling my eyes, I slowly turned my back toward them and looked outward, not down.

  The air flowed past me in a steady not-at-all-threatening breeze, and the fine spray of rain kissed my cheeks. My heart pounded against my chest as I held my arms out horizontally, and it wasn’t from fear of a damned ghost, either. It was exhilarating being up this high, the night sky laid out before me with crystal stars shining through the broken string of rain clouds.

  “Blake!” Justin screamed so obnoxiously his voice cracked the silence worse than a clap of thunder, and I startled—clearly his intention.

  The railing, slick beneath my boots, seemed to tilt, and I quickly lost my footing. My heart in my throat, I windmilled my arms until I somehow managed to fall backward instead of head first into the creek far below.

  Where I expected the hard, wooden bridge to break my fall, a warm body sank beneath me. My head knocked back against Dash’s chest, his arms gripping me as the momentum from my fall jerked us to our backs. I heard the thunk of his body take the full impact, but all I felt was . . . safe.