Unleashing Chaos

Chapter Nine

The last two days have been utter hell in this house. I thought of the chaos caused by my family as the pinnacle of frustrating, but Jace Wilder has all of them beat. The man refuses to look at me, and if I'm lucky, he might grumble a good morning or an excuse me as he maneuvers around me. Beyond that, our communication is non-existent, and I'm tired of this game.

"Why is it you can leave your shoes scattered about or forget your cup on the coffee table, but I rearrange the pillows on the couch, and Jace loses his shit?" I ask.

Cannon peers around the refrigerator door and cocks a brow. "You act as if I'm a complete slob."

I lean against the island and cross my arms over my stomach. "Well, compared to Jace's ridiculously high standards, you kind of are," I say, and when he looks at me with an offended expression, I raise my hands in defense. "Hey, it's not your fault he expects something so far beyond perfection that it's impossible."

"True. One bowl in the sink will not cause the world to crumble around him." Cannon returns to the counter with all the fixings for turkey sandwiches. Without getting a plate out of the cupboard, he prepares our lunch directly on the granite—an act that would send Jace into an epic meltdown. "Why don't you just talk to him? The man is a pretty good listener, not to mention really funny."

I've seen the funny side of Jace a couple times, and it's a side I really, really like. But ever since we argued and nearly kissed—or whatever the hell happened—he hasn't shown me any side except the angry one, and it's intimidating as fuck.

"I've tried to talk to him. I've tried opening up to him. It's like we take one step forward and two steps back. I just think that somewhere deep down, or maybe not so deep down, he doesn't like me. That there's just something about me he can't stand. He likes you. Me, not so much."

Cannon sets the dirty butter knife on the counter and slaps the top slice of bread over the meat and cheese. He grabs two plates from their shelf and tosses our food on top. "You're overthinking this, Desi. You've had guys walk out on you, never call you back, and stand you up, and you're here worrying about Jace. You need to do something to get your mind off him."

I pick up the sandwich and tell him thank you before shoving a bite into my mouth. I haven't eaten all day, and I am what Grub likes to call "hangry."

"You're right, you're right. I just hate that he's my roommate and we can't seem to get along for a prolonged amount of time," I say after swallowing and taking a drink of tea. "But yeah, doing something else sounds fun. But what? Ideas?" I take another bite of my sandwich and drum my fingernails on the countertop.

"Do I have permission to cash in on that second date?"

I think for a moment. I don't want it to seem like I'm going out with Cannon because I'm pissed at Jace, because that actually isn't the case at all. Cannon is funny, sweet, sexy, and he wants to take me out and show me a good time. Is that not what I'm here for?

"Absolutely."

"I feel like you've got a little aggression you need to work off. Dress warm and comfortable and meet me down here in twenty. I'm going to take you somewhere that you can pretend you're sticking it to Jace Wilder."

"That, I like the sound of."

Twenty minutes later, we are in Cannon's Lexus, and he's driving us to some undisclosed location. I am questioning my choice in clothing when he keeps talking about how cold it is outside.

"Did I dress warmly enough?" I ask, looking down at my black yoga pants, purple puffer jacket, and white Nikes I'd finally broken in after almost a month. "You keep mentioning the cold, and I'm getting paranoid."