Page 23 of Undisputed Chaos
I bit my lip, remembering how that powerful body had felt pressedagainst mine, how his tattoos had seemed to ripple with life under my fingertips.
Those hands that could deliver such damage had cradled my face with such gentleness.
My phone buzzed with a text from Bailey screaming about a knife-throwing video he’d posted…?
I quickly found his profile again and dug in. Sure enough, there was Adrian in a dark room, casually flipping a blade between his tattooed fingers like it was nothing more than a coin.
Then he launched it across the room, the camera panning to show a perfect bullseye into a target, returning to Adrian's face as he winked at the camera.
The comments were filled with fire emojis and women practically begging him to murder them.
For once, I understood the sentiment completely.
I fell deeper into the rabbit hole, consuming every piece of content I could find: A video of him laughing with his friends, a slow-motion clip of him landing a knockout punch, an interview where he showed up in a pink crop top that made the reporter blush.
Each one peeled back another layer, showing me glimpses of the man I’d kissed silly.
He had nothing on Noah.
The thought came suddenly, a comparison I hadn't intended to make.
But it was true. Noah had been my high school sweetheart, my first boyfriend, the safe choice everyone had approved of, at least at first.
He'd liked me well enough, loved me, in his own way. He'd bought me flowers on the right days, taken me to nice restaurants, and told me I was pretty when I dressed the way he liked.
But he'd never looked at me the way Adrian had, like he'd die if he couldn't touch me.
Noah's kisses never made me forget my own name, and they never left me trembling and hungry for more.
Noah had never made me want to be reckless.
I rubbed my thumb across my lower lip, still feeling the phantom pressure of Adrian's mouth.
Noah and I ended things bitterly after we both stopped making an effort to see each other in college. We just… drifted, I suppose.
The memory still stung, but it felt distant now, like something that had happened to someone else.
Adrian's comment from earlier happily appeared in my mind:Sweet enough to bite.
Heat bloomed in my cheeks as I imagined exactly what his bites might feel like and where they might land.
I never revealed myself as the type of girl who'd be interested in that kind of intensity, that edge of danger. But now, I couldn't imagine wanting anything else.
My phone pinged from Bailey, who sent me another video of Adrian. This one showing him in the gym with his friends, all three friendly as they sparred.
The caption read:What’s a therapy session include without consensual violence?
I watched it three times, mesmerized by the easy camaraderie between them and the controlled power in Adrian's movements.
These were dangerous men who could break bones and end fights in seconds, yet they were also just... friends. Teasing each other, showing off, being normal despite everything about them that screamed extraordinary.
I wondered what it would be like to be part of that world. To be the girl Adrian came home to after a fight, to trace the stories in his ink with my fingertips, to learn what made him laugh, what made him growl, what made him gentle.
The thought was both exciting and confusing. A man like Adrian would never fit into the carefully curated life I'd built for myself. He was chaos incarnate, while I'd spent years making everything perfect and predictable.
Yet I couldn't stop thinking about him. Couldn't stop wondering if he was thinking about me, too.
I closed the app and opened my messages, scrolling until I found Noah's contact. The last message he sent before I blocked him flashed on the screen:I’m sorry I couldn’t be good enough for you.
