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  CHAOS

  & the Geek

  ALSO BY ELIZABETH STEVENS

  NEW ADULT/ADULT BOOKS

  Damned trilogy

  Damned if I do

  Damned if I don’t

  Damned if I know

  Grace Grayson Security

  Chaos & the Geek

  Hawk & the Lady

  O Lord & the Queen

  Loving the Sykes

  Caden

  Carter

  Luther

  MATURE YA/NEW ADULT BOOKS

  the Trouble with Hate is…

  Accidentally Perfect

  Being Not Good

  Popped

  Royal Misadventures Series

  Now Presenting

  Lady in Training

  Three of a Kind

  Some Proposal

  Royally Unprepared

  a GRACE GRAYSON novel

  CHAOS

  & the Geek

  ELIZABETH STEVENS

  Kinky Siren

  An imprint of Sleeping Dragon Books

  Chaos & the Geek

  by Elizabeth Stevens

  Print ISBN: 978-1925928174

  Digital ISBN: 978-1925928167

  Cover art by: Izzie Duffield

  Copyright 2020 Elizabeth Stevens

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  Worldwide English Language Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To the Duffields,

  with love from Glitorus Clittertits.

  N

  Contents

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Amber

  Kit

  Chaos & the Geek

  Thanks

  My Books

  About the Author

  1

  Amber

  I struggled with the lock as I juggled the books in my arms.

  “Celebrate good times!” I called as I finally got the damned thing open and realised there was music blaring from Dannie’s bedroom.

  I kicked the front door closed, dropped my stuff on the couch and grooved along to the music. I wasn’t usually so animated, especially after pulling an all-nighter at the library. But as I’d said, that day was cause for celebration. Getting totally shit-faced- and karaoke- level celebration.

  I grabbed the handle of my best friend’s bedroom door.

  “Break out the champers, lovely. We have– Oh, my bad,” I laughed as Dannie tumbled off the guy she was riding enthusiastically.

  My laughter died as Brent sat up from under her in complete shock like he’d been the one who’d just walked into the room. Dannie twirled around, grabbing the sheets to her like I hadn’t seen her naked a hundred times over the years. And the shock and horror I felt on my face was mirrored on hers.

  It took my brain a moment to work out I was actually seeing this. It took me a moment to stop trying to convince myself that I was just overworked and hallucinating – it had been known to happen, just not quite to this extent.

  “Babe. It’s not what it looks like…” Brent started, reaching for me.

  “Really?” I blinked. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”

  Because, yep. The girl I’d been best friends with for almost twenty years was just having sex with my boyfriend. Admittedly, Brent and I hadn’t been dating long. I guess. Is five months a lot these days? And we hadn’t gone all the way. Yet. But I was busy dammit. Busy and stressed and Brent had said he didn’t mind.

  “Amber…” Dannie started and I shook my head.

  “No.” I closed my eyes and took a breath, feeling oddly numb. “Just… Please tell me this is the first time.”

  There was silence and I opened my eyes slowly to look at them.

  “Babe, sure. It’s the only time.” Brent nodded. He was totally stealing the Razzie off Sly Stone this year for that dismal performance.

  But Dannie would never lie to my face and the look on hers now told me all I needed to know. Something was starting to push through the numbness. I just wasn’t sure yet if it was pain, sadness, or anger.

  “How long?” I whispered.

  Dannie grimaced. “Too long.”

  “What else were we supposed to do while we were waiting for you to get out of that fucking boring library?” Brent asked, obviously on the defensive.

  “Oh, I don’t know! Not fucking each other? Literally any of humanity’s other numerous and varied past-times but fucking each other!” I snapped and I watched Brent’s eyes go wide. Yes, I’d never said that word before, let alone twice. “Now it makes sense why you were happy to wait…”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled. Honestly, I didn’t want to argue with them about who was to blame or whether it was right or wrong. So, I turned and headed for my room. I heard them yelling at each other, but I tuned them out as I found my suitcase and started shoving as much into it as I could.

  “Amber!” Dannie called and I just shook my head. “Amber, listen to me. It was an accident–”

  I shook my head. “No. An accident is running over the neighbour’s cat, Dan. Not sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend. I know I’ve been pulling ridiculous hours. But am I not worth some loyalty and honesty? Any?” I yelled as I slammed my suitcase lid down. I let out a breath, still not sure what I was feeling…if anything.

  I was starting to think any emotion was going to be too scary, so I didn’t want to name any.

  “Of course you are. And we should have…”

  “What?” I scoffed as I wrestled with my zipper. “Told me? Or just not done it in the first place? I know he wasn’t perfect, Dan. I knew he wasn’t Prince Charming. But I really liked him. Especially after…”

  I couldn’t say it, but she’d been there through all of it. She didn’t need the reminder any more than I did.

  “I know, babes. I’m sorry.”

  I could only shake my head as I pulled the handle on my suitcase and shoved past her. Brent’s betrayal was a non-issue; I’d liked the guy, but he was just a guy. Dannie on the other hand? It was nice to know that, after everything we’d been through together, twenty years of best-friendship meant less than some guy’s dick.

  “Babe!” Brent called as I walked past Dannie’s room, but I kept going.

  I grabbed up my satchel and my books from the couch and my keys.

  “Where are you going to go?” Dannie asked.

  I paused, my hand on the doorknob. “I don’t know. Anywhere’s better than here.”

  I stormed out and headed for the lift. The old, rickety lift I hated. But I was so not bouncing my suitcase down ten flights of stairs. I breathed out heavily as the door closed on me and wasn’t sure if I was staving off tears or the desire to punch something.

  I hadn’t had this complete numbness for so long. But it was like my body recognised it all too well and welcomed it with open arms like a long-lost limb. I stumbled a little as I walked out of the lift and headed for the rarely used back door in
case I was followed. I was so busy ignoring any and all feelings that I didn’t notice that the heavens, that had been threatening to open all week, had done just that with gusto until water ran into my eye.

  I blinked and just stood there for a moment, not sure if I was crying or not.

  I don’t know how long I was standing there, but I slowly registered that there was someone yelling. I focussed my eyes and saw a vaguely familiar older guy hurrying over the road towards me, calling to me.

  He stopped in front of me and I blinked heavily.

  “Are you all right, miss?” he asked, and I realised he was familiar because he was wearing the uniform for the swanky place across the road.

  I’d walked past enough times in the three years I lived there that I was sure I’d seen him at the door more than once.

  “Miss? Are you okay?”

  I shook my head out of my arse. “Um… I’m…” I looked back up to where I knew our apartment was. “I will be. Thanks.”

  “Have you got anywhere to go, miss?” he asked sweetly.

  I smiled at him softly and shook my head. “No. I need to get hold of my brother. But then I’ll be fine.” I didn’t know why I felt like I was about to divulge my whole life story to this lovely older gentleman, but he just had that trusted grandfatherly quality to him.

  He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you come on over into the dry, miss? We can get you a hot drink and get hold of your brother for you?”

  My eyes slid to the ridiculously expensive building across the road. “Thanks. But I’d hate to put you out and I wouldn’t really fit in.” I flapped my soaking oversized woollen jumper as evidence.

  He made a tutting noise and winked at me. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  I saw his name tag read Johnson.

  The idea of somewhere dry to call my brother from sounded amazing. And just then, I was incapable of thinking of anywhere else. So, I finally nodded, let him take my case, and let him lead the way back across the road.

  “Thank you, Johnson.”

  “You’re most welcome, miss. I hated to see such a sweet young lady looking so lost. What’s your poison? Tea? Coffee? Chocolate?” he asked as we hurried under the giant awning and he carried my bag up the steps.

  “God, a stiff coffee would do me wonders.”

  “I’ll ask the boys to throw in a fortifying shot of Jamesons,” he said with a wink and a tap to his nose.

  “It’s a bit early in the day isn’t it?” I had been joking.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said again as he directed me to some seats in the foyer. “Now, give me two ticks to find you a couple of towels and get the boys on that coffee, and we’ll get you settled.”

  I nodded, starting to feel too overwhelmed to do much more. I pulled my phone out of my wet jeans and looked for my brother’s number. It rang out and I couldn’t think of what to say to his answering service, so I hung up and waited for Johnson to come back.

  Just as that overwhelmed sensation was turning into self-pity and sadness, I saw Johnson jogging back over with some towels and a comforting smile.

  “Here you go, miss. Dry off as best you can. Coffee’s on the way.”

  “Thank you.”

  I took the top towel hesitantly as Johnson put the rest of the pile down on a chair beside us. The Mayhew was some kind of apartment/hotel complex that would cost more per night than a month of my rent. The towels were embossed with The Mayhew’s emblem and were so soft I could have just snuggled up to them and fallen asleep. I rubbed myself over vigorously, only just realising I was shivering from cold.

  “Anything else I can do, miss?”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you. You’ve already done more than enough.”

  “All right. I’d best hop on back to work, then. The boys will bring your coffee when it’s done. On me.” He gave me that friendly wink again.

  “Thank you, Johnson.”

  He gave me a little salute and strode back to the front doors.

  I grabbed one of the dry towels and put it on the great wingback chair before I sat down and tried my brother again. I knew that calling him was the best way to get hold of him. He was the sort of guy who didn’t pay attention to his phone unless it was making incessant noise. His notification tone just wasn’t long enough, and he still had an unread voicemail I’d left him four years ago.

  But still no answer. Knowing he was probably working, I resolved to just try again later.

  A nice young guy brought my coffee over and asked if I needed anything else, to which I assured him I was fine. He didn’t look completely pleased I was there, but I assumed that had more to do with the fact that he didn’t want to cop any flack for dishevelled little me being there than he was feeling superior.

  I sat in my own corner of the world, my hand wrapped around the warmth of the mug, the Jameson sending a pleasant burn through me, and trying to get hold of my brother. Finally, he picked up.

  “Sorry, Bert. You’ve only got like two minutes. What’s up?” Patrick answered.

  That was my loving brother. Okay if I was completely honest, he was incredibly loving. He just worked a seriously hectic job and I was lucky to get any time to talk to him, let alone see him. But it was preferable to him jaunting around the world on top secret barely-not-suicide missions in the name of other people’s safety.

  “I need a ride when you’ve got time?” I hedged.

  “Time?” he scoffed, but I knew he was berating himself, not me. “Where do you need a ride to?”

  “Anywhere that isn’t near Dannie or Brent.”

  “Why?” his voice was hard. “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say, Dannie sampled my boyfriend before I did,” I replied wryly.

  “I will rip that ungrateful fucker a new one!” he growled.

  “All right. Settle down, tiger. Do you have time to get me or not?”

  He grunted as he thought. “You don’t want to call Farrah…?”

  Damn him knowing me so well. “I just figure it’ll be weird with Dannie involved. I just need some space.”

  “You sound like you’re holding up remarkably well?”

  “I’m ignoring it.”

  “Bert, you can’t do that.”

  “I can while I’m sitting in the foyer of the swankiest place this side of town,” I hissed.

  “Fuck!” he snapped, and I wondered what had happened. “Wait. You’re at the Mayhew? Okay. I can grab you in about…an hour?”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get Rollie or Tank to cover for me. It’ll be fine. It’s nothing big anyway.” I heard him pause, but my brain had shorted out and I didn’t respond. “Amber?” he pressed.

  “I… Uh… You know what…?” I mumbled. I wasn’t going to be able to wait an hour.

  “Shit. I gotta go. I’ll see you in an hour. Love you!” he yelled, and I was listening to dial-tone as the first feeling broke through my numb defence. And of everything that had happened that morning, the only thing I felt was panic.

  I felt like the world had suddenly fallen into slow motion as a tall, lean man in a light grey suit, black shoes, white shirt and black tie jogged down the stairs at the other end of the foyer. He was a specimen of true beauty, his suit tailored to perfection as his eyes passed over the foyer like a king surveying his kingdom. He kicked his chin in greeting to the lady at the front desk as his feet lightly touched the floor. He ran his hand through almost-black hair – that had been shorter last time I’d seen him – as he strode purposefully across the foyer towards where the guy with the coffee had come from.

  Nearly eight years and he still had that alpha-male look about him, that ridiculous confidence that made girls seven years younger than him drool all over him. And I was indeed speaking from experience. He’d always been hot, but the last eight years had been kinder to him than they had to me. I’d seen a few pictures from his and my brother’s military days, but those combat outfits had nothing on a tailore
d suit.

  As he disappeared into the other room, I finally managed to remember how to breathe and let myself think his name.

  Christopher Grayson.

  Kit to his friends and family.

  The guy my brother had nicknamed Chaos in junior school because of all the shit he got up to and later for all the hearts he left behind. He and my brother had been joined at the hip since they met in Reception. Then his family had moved down the street from mine when the boys were about ten and life for my brother had never been the same. He and Kit had been inseparable through school, a couple of years of uni, enlisting in the Navy, training and then both being hand-picked for some special ops team those left at home were never to be told about.

  I’d never been able to look at Kit unless he didn’t know I was in the room. I’d never been able to talk to him. Even without the seven-year age gap, I’d been a total mess around him. He’d been the first guy I’d crushed on and – if we’re being honest – the only guy who’d ever starred in my dirty fantasies…or any fantasies really. He dated the most beautiful girls and got up to all kinds of things I’d probably never know about.

  Even if we were to take away the whole sopping oversized jumper, the glasses, the frizzy hair and the tear-stained face thing, Kit Grayson was so far out of my league I wouldn’t even be given clearance to clean in his league. Not that it mattered, because Kit Grayson had never noticed me past the awkward, weirdo little sister of his best mate and I’d gone to pains to keep it that way.

  Except now he was in the room across the foyer and I still had to wait for my brother.

  I checked the time. I’d stopped talking to Patrick about ten minutes before, so only fifty minutes. If that was a bar or restaurant, the likelihood of Kit being any less than that was slim. If he was less, it would be significantly less surely, and he wouldn’t recognise me. Mind you, even if he did, he wasn’t going to acknowledge my presence. So, I was fine.