Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1) by Molly E. Lee

think he was an asshole,” he cut me off.
    Why were the men in my life picking fights with me today? My stomach boiled. “Fine.” I shrugged. “Think what you want.” I opened my car door and sank inside. Dash stomped toward the bar, and I drove off before he’d made it in.
    I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. My insides trembled and I screamed.
    I took a few deep breaths to calm down, eased back in my seat, and focused on the road. Even Justin hadn’t pulled a reaction like this out of me from a fight in a long time. Maybe because I avoided fights with him at all cost. Dash had blindsided me, though.
    Why had he chosen tonight to speak his mind? He’d had plenty of opportunities in the past month when I’d basically relayed Justin’s and my entire history to him. Instead he’d just made his faces and given his own war story involving him and Lindsay. We’d laughed about it.
    I let myself in to Justin’s apartment, excitement replacing the anger within me. Justin and I were about to have a much-needed quiet night together, just the two of us. Dash couldn’t possibly understand the need because Lindsay was at his beck and call. He had no idea what it was like to have to fight for time with your partner or to get to a place where you were so lost you didn’t even know where you stood anymore. I had to find solid ground again.
    My heart sank a fraction as I made my way to the living room. I stepped over opened stereo boxes, their wires and cords strewn everywhere, and then tiptoed across the room to avoid crushing empty beer cans with my boots. The place smelled faintly of smoke and fried food, but not in a good way like at the bar. This was more of a stagnant scent that had hovered who knows how long. It’d been a while since this place had a good cleaning. Probably since the last time I’d done it, months ago. I glanced at the kitchen on my way and cringed. A tower of dishes filled the sink, some moldy, others cracked, and the countertops were littered with McDonald’s and Wendy’s bags. My fingers itched to give it all a good scrub down, but I squashed the urge.
    Justin sat in the middle of his couch, his Xbox controller in hand and his eyes fixed on his massive flat screen. The living room fared no better, and I sighed.
    “Just a minute,” Justin said without looking up.
    I continued to stare at the mess he lived in, a wave of unease sweeping over me. This was worse than I remembered. Was work riding him so hard he couldn’t manage the effort to keep the place even the slightest bit tidy? Or had I never realized it was always this bad? Kind of like I never noticed there were men in the world who actually listened, and got excited about things other than video games? Damn it, Dash’s challenge tonight shook up my thoughts so much I couldn’t see straight.
    I took a seat on the edge of his couch, noticing the sunken-in form underneath Justin had molded even more to his body than before. My stomach simmered—this is where he’d rather be than out with me.
    He clicked off the Xbox and laid his controller gently on the entertainment stand. He turned to me. “Glad you came over,” he said and stood, taking my hands and pulling me to him.
    The simmering stopped. Maybe I wasn’t seeing things differently. Perhaps he didn’t even realize how bad the place was. Work had to be exhausting him. I’d help him get the place back to livable again. Maybe tomorrow.
    I wrapped my arms around his middle.
    Before I could speak, he swooped an arm underneath my legs and held me against his chest. He rushed us to his bedroom, crunching beer cans as he went.
    “Whoa, where is the fire?” I asked when he tossed me on his twin-size mattress. It laid on the floor, which I was thankful I couldn’t see because he’d neglected to turn on the light. I heard the clanking of his belt and then his pants unzipping.
    “Right here,” he whispered and tugged at my jeans.
    “I thought we were going to