AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Flatten them? What exactly have I got myself in for here?
But I do as she says, placing the flowers carefully on the long grass, then straighten up and grip the metal arms of the chair. The light is blinding, the heat of it tickling my cheeks, and my body’s going haywire knowing she’s near.
I’ve missed her so much. It’s only been a few hours apart, but it felt like years.
A speaker crackles to life somewhere on the beam high above. The music it plays is soft, throbbing. The whoops and cries of the main tent are muffled, and so far away.
When Cocoa walks out of the shadows, dressed only in a ruby red leotard, I have to pinch my thigh through my jeans.
Nope. Definitely real. Definitelyhere, walking toward me, so beautiful that it’s like someone took a boiling hot ice cream scoop to my chest. I squeeze the chair hard as Cocoa stops between my thighs, reaching up to twine the silks around her wrists. She still smells like my peppermint soap.
“Sweetheart—”
Then she’s gone, climbing the silks quicker than I thought possible, her movements lithe and graceful. I watch with my heart in my throat as she twirls and tumbles in mid air, then stretches her legs into the splits, her ankles wound with fabric. She climbs higher again, twining her body with the silks to the beat of the music, and I’m half spellbound, half sick with worry.
“Be careful,” I rasp. There’s a delighted laugh high above, but at least if she falls, she’ll land in my lap.
“I do this act in the big tent, Mac. Do you know how much higher that is?”
Christ. Don’t want to think about that. I scrub one hand over my face, and my neck’s aching from this angle, but I can’t blink. Can’t look away from the elfin girl spinning in the spotlight high above.
She’s so unreal. So untouchable. Like something from a dream. And did I ever seriously think I could keep her? It’d be like trapping a fairy in a jar.
The heel of my boot brushes the bouquet of roses, and I feel extra stupid for bringing those now.
“The chair is new, though,” Cocoa calls.
Good. Don’t like the idea of someone else getting this angle of her—though of course that’s nonsense. She’s a performer. She’smeantto be on display.
“Why’d you add it?”
There’s another pleased laugh, then Cocoa tumbles down the silks, her body spinning over and over, plummeting toward the ground. My pulse spikes, my stomach flips, and I’m lurching up from the chair when she stops with her stomach an inch above my lap.
“Jesus!” I fall back down, and my fingertips are digging grooves in the metal arms of this chair. I’m rigid, heart pounding, face seized with panic. The girl now dancing a mere breath above my lap isn’t helping matters. “What the hell, Cocoa!”
She winks, spinning slowly, and glitter sparkles on her cheekbones. “All part of the fun.”
Except… I’m not having fun. This is impressive, yes, and I want to see her act, I do, but feeling her this close to me and not being able to touch her is torture. Teasing’s only fun when it can go somewhere. When it doesn’t break your heart.
I clear my throat. “Let me up. I need to go.”
Cocoa stops moving, stunned. She’s twisted in the silks, sitting in them like a sling, so close her heat tickles my lap.
“Seriously?” she croaks. “You’re leavingnow?” Tears shine in her eyes, and I feel like the world’s biggest jackass because I couldn’t hack it for a few minutes longer. “Wow, I really had no hope with you.” She sounds bitter, and it’s all wrong in her sweet voice. “I throw out all the stops and you still don’t want me.”
Wait. What?
She untangles herself with jerky movements. It’s ungraceful, unchoreographed, and Cocoa won’t meet my eye. She scowls at the ground, her eyes damp with unshed tears.
The second her feet hit the grass, I grab her wrist. “What are you talking about? Of course I want you.” Christ, if my heart beats any harder, it’s gonna drown out the drums in the big top tent. “You don’t need to put on a show to see that.”
Cocoa scoffs, tossing her choppy dark bob, but she doesn’t pull her arm away. She stands between my thighs, stealing hopeful glances out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, please. You couldn’t get rid of me fast enough this morning.”
I’m holding her hips now, her waist, her ribs. Touching and squeezing, and she lets me, her chest shuddering up and down beneath her leotard. “Because it broke me, Cocoa. I was trying to stay sane. Trying to make it to my next breath. You wanted to go, and I had to convince myself every minute to let you. And I know that’s no excuse, know I acted like a prick, but—”
She throws herself forward with a sob, crashing against my chest. Her kiss is damp with tears, and there’s no slick choreography to this moment, no polish, no poise. The chair’s creaking beneath us, and her knee is perilously near my family jewels, but it’s okay. More than okay.
It’s perfect.
