This Beautiful Chaos, Chapter 1

Hook, Line, and Belt buckle

The venue smelled like stale beer, cheap cologne, and desperation. The kind of place that stuck to your shoes and made your introvert soul cringe. I’d spent the last hour trying not to glare at my two best friends, who were currently losing their minds over the local band on stage.

“You’re gonna love these guys!” Julie said.

“They’re exactly your vibe!” Amie had promised.

And okay, fine, the band wasn’t terrible. Actually, they were kind of amazing, in a raw, leave-your-soul-on-the-stage kind of way. The lead singer? He wasn’t terrible either.

He had this energy about him. Wild, electric, like he was barely holding himself together but somehow channeling all of it into his music. He wasn’t just performing; he was bleeding his heart into the mic.

And me? I was planted firmly against the back wall, arms crossed, trying not to care.

That was my spot. Since middle school. Comfortable, out of the way, where I didn’t have to deal with the press of the crowd or risk someone spilling their cheap beer on me. I’d thrown on my go-to outfit, my armor, if you will: dark wash, vintage flare jeans, worn soft in all the right places, and a vintage Fall Out Boy tee that I told myself made me look effortlessly cool instead of “trying too hard middle aged mom of two.” My black-and-pink hair was twisted up in a messy bun, and bright pink and blue neon eyeshadow framed my hazel eyes, which were currently focused on not making eye contact with anyone.

I wasn’t the kind of woman who blended in, but I also wasn’t the type to stand out in a room like this. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. Introvert camouflage, you know? Bold enough to deflect attention, but not loud enough to demand it.

I was about to turn 40. Two divorces under my belt, and two daughters. One a teenager, 13, the other an adult, 21. Oh, and a one-year-old granddaughter. Yep, you heard that right. I was leveled up to g-maw before I hit 40.

While my friends were busy dragging me out of my introvert hole, I was secretly counting down the hours until I could get back to my quiet world of lesson plans, listening to the latest middle school gossip, and Netflix binges.

The last chord hit like a gut punch, and the crowd erupted. My friends screamed like teenagers, and the band started leaving the stage, wiping sweat off their faces, grinning like they owned the world.

Then I saw him. He was stepping off the stage, guitar slung over his shoulder, moving through the crowd like a storm, and somehow, his eyes locked on mine.

And it wasn’t just a glance. It was a moment.

One of those out-of-body, time-stops-moving, everything goes slow-mo, kind of things. His bleach blonde, messy hair clung to his face, and his smile was cocky but laced with something deeper, like he knew exactly how to emotionally devastate me without trying.

“Go!” Julie hissed, shoving me forward.

“What?!” I yelped as I was being shoved toward this man who had zero business being this hot.

“This is it! You’ve got one shot, Meg! Do something!” Amie yells behind me.

And because I was clearly having a temporary lapse in judgment, I did.

He was already halfway past me, surrounded by fans, moving too quickly, and I panicked.

My hand shot out, searching for any way to grab his attention.

I missed his arm. Missed his shirt. Missed everything except…

Oh fuck.

His belt buckle.

He stopped dead, his body jerking backward as I yanked him toward me with enough force to send him stumbling into me.

For a second, the crowd didn’t exist. It was just us. His wide, surprised eyes locked on mine, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. And oh God, the dimples. Deep, mischievous dimples that carved into his cheeks like they were designed to make knees weak. My mortified face. The heat between us, so tangible it could’ve melted the damn stage.

“Well,” he said, his voice rough and laced with amusement. “That’s one way to get a guy’s attention.”

My mouth opened, my eyes wide at the audacity at what I had just done to this 6’3” man who seemed to now be larger than life. Nothing came out.

“Any reason you’re holding onto my pants, or are we skipping straight to introductions?”

And just like that, the chaotic, ridiculous start to whatever this was…began.