Page 47 of Undisputed Chaos
Her sushi arrived in a black lacquered boat big enough to feed a small army. I watched through the delivery app’s live tracking as Isla answered the door, her gasp audible through the phone.
I picked up my own delivery at the same time, in love with her little indignant sounds as she looked through everything.
My angel wasn’t eating alone tonight.
"Adrian! This is way too much food!"
I grinned, picturing her wide-eyed expression as she unpacked the massive sushi boat I'd ordered. "Nothing's too much for you. Consider it aftercare."
"Aftercare?" Her voice was curious, a little shy.
“Mmm,” I took a bite, tearing into my own takeout container of greasy lo mein—the kind of shit I’d never let Jax catch me eating.
“It's what happens after... intense experiences. Making sure you feel good, taken care of. Important."
"Oh." The single syllable was soft, thoughtful. I heard the click of chopsticks, the gentle sound of her settling back into what I imagined was her bed or couch. "I've read about that."
That caught my attention. "Have you now? Been doing some research, angel?"
Her embarrassed silence made me chuckle. "It's okay. I like that you're curious. No shame in wanting to learn."
We fell into comfortable conversation as she ate, her initial uncertainty melting away.
I guided her through the different pieces, explaining each one, listening to her little sounds of discovery as she tried things she'd never had before.
"The one with the crunchy stuff on top is amazing," she breathed, her voice warm with pleasure.
"Told you. You've been missing out with your usual California rolls."
She laughed, the sound sending warmth through my body. "Fine, you win. I'll trust your food recommendations from now on."
"Good.” I laughed, then smiled to myself. "That's what this is going to be like, you know. Sometimes I'll push you to try new things and follow instructions. Other times we'll just talk and laugh. Both are important."
"I like both," she admitted warmly.
I slurped a noodle loudly, grinning at her offended huff. “What?You think I live on kale and protein shakes? I’ve got a neon pink Slurpee in my freezer right now.”
She laughed, the sound loosening something in my chest.
"Tell me more about your painting. The one you showed me yesterday, the special one. What were you thinking when you created it?"
She launched into an explanation of her process, her voice growing animated as she described the emotions she'd been trying to capture.
I closed my eyes, letting her words wash over me, memorizing the cadence of her speech, the little pauses when she searched for the right word, the way her breath quickened when she talked about something that excited her.
This was new territory for me, this desire to know someone completely, to collect every detail like precious artifacts. With others, I'd wanted their bodies, their submission, their fear.
But with Isla… I wanted her essence, her thoughts, dreams, and secrets. I wanted to know every part of her, not just the physical.
Hours passed as we talked about everything and nothing. My collection of crop tops made an appearance, as well as her favorite movies and my piranhas.
When her voice began to grow sleepy, I didn't hang up. I loved hearing her; it made me ache to hold her.
I lowered my voice, telling her stories about Toffee and Dino, and growing up with Connor and Jax, after I’d learned to calm the fuck down in life.
"Adrian?" she murmured, her voice thick with approaching sleep.
"Yeah, angel?"
