Page 32 of Carnival Mayhem

I wipe my eyes, trying to compose myself. Aurora’s kind face reminds me of someone I knew in high school—before everything went wrong.

“I’m fine,” I manage, though my voice cracks. “Just... family stuff.”

Aurora nods, understanding filling her eyes. She doesn’t push, doesn’t pry. Instead, she helps me up from the bathroom floor, giving me space to steady myself.

“Listen,” she says, tucking dark hair behind her ear. “Some of us girls are having a movie night tonight. Nothing fancy—just popcorn, snacks, probably some terrible rom-coms.” Her smile is warm and inviting. “You should join us. It’s always nice to have fresh faces around.”

My instinct is to decline. Being around people I don’t know makes me nervous, especially after everything. But something in Aurora’s gentle demeanor makes me hesitate.

“I... maybe?” The word comes out as a question. “I’m not sure if?—”

“No pressure,” Aurora cuts in smoothly. “We’re meeting in the main tent at seven. If you feel up to it, great. If not, there’s always next time.”

She makes it sound so simple, so casual. Like I’m not broken. The thought brings an unexpected lump to my throat.

“Thanks,” I whisper. “I’ll think about it.”

I hesitate at the trailer door, my hand hovering over the handle. Through the window, I can see Nash sitting at the small table, focused on what appears to be paperwork. My earlierconversation with Aurora still echoes, but something about Nash’s presence helps steady my nerves.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door. Nash looks up, a smile crossing his face as he sees me.

“Hey, little bird.” He sets down his pen. “Thought you’d be practicing with Colt.”

“He had to check something with Tyson.” I step inside, closing the door behind me. The trailer feels different with just the two of us—not uncomfortable, just... different. “What are you working on?”

Nash shuffles the papers together. “Schedule planning for the Christmas show. Making sure everyone’s routines flow together.” He gestures to the empty chair across from him. “Want to join me? I could use a fresh perspective.”

I slide into the seat, grateful for the casual invitation. Nash has always been quieter than Colt, more reserved but less intense. “I don’t know much about show planning.”

“You know more than you think.” He pushes a sheet toward me. “See these time slots? Each act needs proper setup and breakdown time. It’s like a puzzle.”

As Nash explains the intricacies of show planning, I find myself relaxing. He has a way of making complex things seem simple. We discuss different acts, and he asks my opinion on transition times.

“What made you join the carnival?” I ask during a lull in the conversation. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

Nash leans back, his eyes meeting mine. “Freedom,” he says simply. “The chance to create something beautiful and dangerous.” He pauses, studying me. “What about you? What brought you to our world?”

“Freedom,” I echo his word, watching something flicker in his eyes. A shadow of recognition, maybe understanding.There’s darkness in his past, too—I can sense it, like recognizing your own reflection in murky water.

“What about your family?” The question slips out before I can stop it. “Do they?—”

“Ah ah,” Nash cuts me off, but his tone stays light, playful. His fingers drum against the table. “That’s not a road we’re going down today.” He pushes back his chair slightly, patting his thigh. “Come here instead.”

I recognize the deflection for what it is—I’ve used similar tactics myself often enough. But I like having Nash’s full attention without Colt present. Different dynamic, different energy.

Rising from my chair, I move around the table. Nash’s hands find my hips as I straddle his lap. The position is already familiar despite being new with just him.

“Much better topic of conversation,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up my back. His other grips my hip, keeping me steady.

“Tell me what you want,” Nash murmurs, his lips ghosting along my jawline, up to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me exactly what I can do to drive you wild.”

My pulse thrums between my legs, my core throbbing with desire as he teases me. I squeeze my thighs together, savoring the delicious pressure. With Colt, things started rough. But with Nash... my body craves something different. Something that makes my skin shiver and my heart pound.

“I want you to take your time.” My voice sounds breathless, even to my own ears. “Make me wait for it. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke... I want to feel it building inside me until I can’t take it anymore.”

His teeth nip at my earlobe, and a shiver runs through me. “And then?” His hand slides down the small of my back, the promise of possession in his touch.

“Then I want you to claim me,” I whisper. “Mark me. Make me scream your name.”

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