Killian catches up to me as I’m almost reaching the tent.
“Hey!” He grabs onto my arm, pausing my footing.
Breathe in and out. I don’t care. I shouldn’t care.
So why does it feel as though someone has punched me in my stomach? Why do I feel sick? Maybe I am sick.
I turn to face him, smiling. “Can we just get this over with? I haven’t been on a bike, let alone been on a wheel with one.”
His eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, slowly pulling my arm out of his grip and turning back to the tent. You can’t give a man like Killian ammunition; he’ll only use it to shoot you straight through the heart.
“You went weird…” he mutters, just as we’re passing the seating and heading straight for the center ring.
“Hey!” I ignore Killian and call out to Keaton, who is standing with Lucifer, one of the Six Demons.
Lucifer is hot for an old guy. With dark hair and a thick, dark beard, he’s everything that I pictured from a Game of Thrones set.
Lucifer regards me up and down until it gets weird, and he disappears into the crowd after saying he’ll catch Keaton later.
Keaton stares at me blankly. “What’s up? I thought you trained already?”
“She did,” Killian declares, wrapping his arm around my belly and tugging me into his chest. I try to wriggle my way out of his grip when Keaton notices the foreign movement.
“Is this a thing?” he asks, gesturing down to my belly. “And I’m not talking about the dried cum.”
I slip out of Killian’s hold. “Nope. It’s not.” Turning toward the wheel. “Okay, so what do I do?”
This show went as smooth as the one yesterday, only when it was time for me to hop into the wheel with Killian, I almost froze. Wearing the outfit I wore during my fire scene, I waltzed into the wheel, and pulled myself onto the swing. The Wheel of Death was dangerous without the swings, but with them it was even worse. Though the swings never moved, every time I went upside down, while Killian burned around me, was terrifying. You couldn’t see it from the audience, but I was locked to a harness that was connected to the metal swing. Aside from my success in ignoring him during the scene, I’ve made it my mission to skip out on Killian all night.
I’m ashamed for what I’ve done, but I can’t help it. I’m impulsive as a person, I only wish that I could have better prepared myself for how easily I would trip and fall on top of Killian Cornelii’s dick. Suddenly, I see why he has no problem getting girls.
I’m mad that I’ve slapped a number on my head.
The show ends and I head back to the RV, quickly washing up and slipping into a dress style suit jacket with white cuffs and Nike mid-tops. It’s a blend between classy and tomboy, which I’ve always found the style I heed toward when I’m not performing.
I’m pulling open my bedroom door when Killian is standing there, freshly showered and looking extra fuckable with black jeans that have tears in the knees and the word VALENTINO printed in white large letters that cross from one leg to the other. He matched it with a white Calvin Klein shirt and white Nike sneakers.
“Killian,” I sigh, pulling the door closed behind me. Why does he make this so hard?
“You’re coming with me.” He reaches for my hand, but I flinch away from him.
“Why? Can’t you take Callan?” I say, shaking my head. “And it’s only a few steps away.”
His brows rise. “You want me to take Callan?”
I look to the ground, catching sight of his bandana tied around his wrist. I have heard about the significance of these bandanas and what they mean, though I’ve yet to know if it’s myth or true, because if it’s true, that would mean that I live with serial killers.
I lick my lips. No. “Yes.”
His jaw flexes a few times, and I watch as his cold, distant eyes lose focus. He pushes off the wall and heads back downstairs.
Shit.
Why’d I have to say that? Maybe I was still sulking about this morning. Or maybe it’s because I can’t trust him and will never be able to trust him, so it’s better this way. I settle for the latter and head downstairs, then outside when I see no one is there. Few minutes later, I’m at Midnight’s RV where they have a fire pit burning and chairs laid out everywhere. People from the show and the workers and crew, all here drinking, laughing, chatting. Everyone but Delila, from what I can see.
I know Killian’s here. I felt him before I even tried to seek him out. We’re like magnetic forces whenever we’re in the same vicinity, which would explain why I’m struggling so hard to stay away from him.