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

But now that I had to hide my newly-formed friendships from him, I wondered how much his need to know where I was constantly was out of love or out of the need to control every facet of my life.
    The smell of fresh paper and hot coffee wafted over me as we walked deeper into the store, the scents grounding me in the present. I shook my head, tossing the thoughts off as the over-analyzer I was.
    “Pick out a couple. Any you want, I’m buying,” Justin said and released my hand. His tone was even and he smiled, helping to shove my earlier concerns and irritation down.
    “Thank you.” I turned down an aisle, gazing at the variety of beautifully covered books.
    His gesture made a flood of memories rush through me, like the tide of the ocean that had drawn so far away from my toes in the sand I thought it’d never come back.
    Memories of when we were younger—our walks around the neighborhood that seemed endless and yet always ended too soon. Where we would let the moon and lampposts guide us as we walked and talked, discovering each other.
    The special expanse of black walnut trees where he’d told me about his mom abandoning him, how he’d never known his real father, and how his aunt and uncle treated him like an inconvenience. I’d held his hand for the first time that day and told him about the screaming matches between my mom and dad, how Dad constantly had to buy new dishes or appliances because he’d break them during a fight, and how the arguments were increasing in frequency. He’d rushed to meet me in that spot, no matter the time, whenever I’d called him, frantic after another fight between my parents.
    The phone calls that carried on late in the night—well beyond the warnings from Mom to end the conversation for bedtime—after his aunt and uncle had moved him across town.
    The Justin I remembered brought a warmth to my heart and a longing for him to be that compassionate again. He’d lost the sweetness somewhere between high school and now. The blowups started his sophomore year, the same year he’d been kicked out of his home and had to fend for himself.
    Now, as he followed me down the adult paranormal section, that sweet side of Justin didn’t seem as far away. I’d often hoped one day I’d be able to help draw out a balance in him, one where the boy I fell in love with would merge with the man he could be if he allowed his motivations to go beyond that of Xbox points and most beer cans collected. As he trailed behind me, I thought perhaps this was a small step toward that balance. Maybe he wouldn’t care if I told him about Dash and the guys, maybe he’d actually want to meet them.
    “I know you’ll be a while, so I’m going to look around. Come find me when you’re done,” he said, cutting through my thoughts.
    “All right,” I answered, watching him turn and walk away.
    I lost myself then, amongst the books and memories of Justin. Like the times he’d show up outside my high school after classes had ended, a new DVD and a sack full of glorious junk food in his truck, and nothing but time to watch it and laugh and simply be together. If I’d known then that those moments would disappear over the years, I may have treasured them a bit more.
    I finally settled on a couple of novels, clutching them to my chest as I took a slow stroll through the store, scanning the aisles for Justin. First the Blue October tickets and now this. My chest tightened a fraction, and ice settled in my stomach with the thought of the reward he’d expect when we arrived home.
    I pushed the thought away, allowing his sweet spontaneity to take over, and contemplated sashaying through the erotica novels. Perhaps a quick skim of one and I could find the answer to our problem—or my problem as he’d so often put it.
    A vibration in my pocket distracted me and I pulled my cell phone out.
    Want to grab a late lunch? Dash texted.
    A warmth bloomed inside my chest. This was my chance. Justin was in a great mood,