Not asking questions was key.
I gave her a quick call, and she said she’d be over in a couple of hours. With that sorted, I tried to play with Oliver for a while, but my heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t focus. Slotting a DVD into the player, I settled him in front of the TV so I could go shower. I was nervous. I’d gotten out and was wrapped in a towel when I began to shiver. My stomach twisted and turned. I hadn’t been able to eat a bite since morning. My throat was clogged with nerves and hope, annihilating my appetite.
I stared into my closet with no clue what to wear. My fashion sense, if anything, had only become more distinct over the years. When you work in the industry, you tend to become a little obsessed with the latest trends. My hands were shaking again as I pulled out a pretty lace top and some skinny jeans. I paired them with some leather boots and allowed my hair to dry curly.
My heart thrummed.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. He was out there, alive and breathing. For a brief second, it took all my willpower not to rush out of the house right away and go find him.
Shakily swiping on some lip gloss, I gave my appearance one last glance before I heard Karla knocking on the front door. I hurried down to answer it and found I was wrong about her not asking questions.
“You look nice. Going anywhere exciting?”
I rummaged in my bag for my car keys. “Just meeting up with Bradley and his new boyfriend for some drinks. I should only be a couple of hours.”
“Ah, right, well, have a good time.” Her brows knitted together, which was usually a sign that she thought I was lying. I didn’t know why she’d suspect anything, because my story seemed airtight. It was only as I slid into the driver’s seat that I realised my mistake. If I was going for drinks with Bradley, then why the fuck would I be driving? I swear, this whole thing was turning my brain to jelly. My mind wouldn’t stop racing, and I just wanted to get to the circus and see King with my own two eyes. Prove to myself this was real.
Hope flooded my veins, filling me with anticipation.
I could have him back. We could have him back for good.
It took forever to find a parking spot close enough to the circus, and in the end I had to leave my car a ten-minute walk away. It was seven-thirty, and the tent was all lit up for the night’s show. People queued up outside to buy tickets, and I didn’t know where to go. Should I buy a ticket? Should I ask around after this Lille person? I’d brought the letter in my purse, as though I’d need to show definitive proof before they’d let me see him.
Unsure of what else to do, I got in line and bought a ticket. I walked alongside a couple of young women as I went into the tent and took a seat close to the back. My skin prickled with awareness. My body hummed. King was here somewhere. It was almost like he’d shown up on my internal radar, sending everything into a fritz.
There were about another twenty minutes before the show would begin, and I was too antsy to just sit there. Standing, I made way down the aisle to an open doorway that led backstage. The place was a flurry of activity as I stepped through. A middle-aged woman wearing some kind of glitzy stage outfit passed me by.
“Excuse me,” I said, and she turned to face me. “I’m looking for Lille Baker.”
The woman smiled. “She should be out front at the face-painting booth.”
A tall, dark-haired man who had seemingly overheard my question stopped, arching a curious brow. “You’re looking for Lille?” he said. His voice was deep, his accent Irish.
I stared up at him, a little intimidated, if I was being honest. He had dark shoulder-length hair, and wore jeans, boots, and a wife-beater vest. His body was a fucking masterpiece of muscle and sinew, and it was a little much for me to take in all at once. I hadn’t been with a man in a long, long time, and he was one of the hottest male specimens I’d ever seen. He must have been a part of the show. These types always were. Finally, I nodded.
“Who are you….” He paused for second, trailing off, as something like recognition lit up his eyes. He looked like he knew me, which made me feel weird. Running a hand over his stubbled jaw, he swore under his breath. “Fucking hell, Lille.”
“You know Lille?” I questioned breathlessly, my heart rate picking up as I stepped closer.
“Yeah, I know her.” He nodded to the back of the tent. “Come with me.”
Instead of leading me out to the front, like the woman had instructed, he led me in the opposite direction. We exited the tent and he stopped, pulling out a smoke and lighting up. He side-eyed me, not saying a word.
“Um….” I began, feeling nervous. He might have been sex on a stick, but he was also scary and intimidating. These days I was used to hanging around my clients (who were all women) and my little boy. Men were an area I was completely out of practice with. Of course, I had my brothers, but I didn’t see them very often.
“How did you know to come here?” he asked.
Anxious, I fumbled in my bag. “I got this letter.”
Now he was swearing again. “For fuck’s sake.”
I frowned. “What?”
He seemed apologetic. “I’m sorry. My girlfriend likes to meddle. You shouldn’t have come.”
“You’re Lille’s boyfriend?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
My voice grew so quiet it was practically a whisper. “Do you…do you know King?”
His eyes went sad, like he felt sorry for me. Something thick and heavy lodged in my throat. Was I too late? Had his self-destructive path reached its end? The thought took the strength right out of me. I was about to ask him what had happened when another man exited the tent. He was tall, too, but with shorter hair and a smarter dress sense. He was also very handsome, and I wondered just how many drop-dead gorgeous men just so happened to be hanging around this circus.
“What’s happening, bro?” he said. American. It was becoming hard to keep up with all the accents. Before the first man, whose name I still didn’t know, could answer, the American’s eyes wandered to me. He took me in quickly, shrewdly, and seemed to immediately recognise who I was. It didn’t take him a few minutes like it had the first man. And his reaction to me was a whole lot different, too. A wide, almost giddy smile spread across his lips.
“Holy shit! It’s you,” he said with a gasp, and came to put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them as he beamed down at me. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Okay, now I was confused. “Uh, me neither?”
“I’m Jay,” he went on. “The grumpy one’s Jack. He’s my brother. Crappity crap, you’re real, Alexis. You’re a living, breathing woman. For a while there we thought you might be a ghost.”
“Hold up a sec,” Jack, the grumpy one, interrupted. “Don’t fucking tell me you were in on this, too?”
Jay rolled his eyes and grinned. “Of course I was.”
“And Matilda?” Jack asked.
“Nah, it was just me and your woman. We were kinda sneaky about it.”
“This isn’t a joke, Jay. This is serious. King isn’t….”
“King will be fine,” Jay intoned meaningfully, turning his head to his brother before looking back at me. “Once he sees his beautiful Alexis, he’ll be doing fucking cartwheels.”
“No, he won’t.”
“He will.”
“He won’t.”
Seriously, I was going to get whiplash going back and forth between these two. I interrupted loudly, hands on hips. “Will one of you just bring me to him?” I stated, my voice on the shaky side.
Jay’s face went serious. “Yeah, sorry, come with me.”
“I’m going to find Lille,” Jack muttered before stomping off. He sounded like he had a serious bone to pick with her, and I didn’t fancy being Lille right then.