Page 39 of The Circus

“What? How the fuck is that weird?”

“Who picks coconut? It’s so…obscure.”

He brushes the hair from my other cheek. “Eden, it’s ice cream. Stop psychoanalyzing me.”

“Fine,” I mutter. “Hmm…what books are on your desk right now?”

He pulls away slightly, dimples appearing near his laugh lines. “The Art of War, Dracula, Looking for Alaska,A Midsummer Night’s Dream, andThe Turn of the Screw. I only allow my favorites to be on the desk. You?”

My smile fades.

“You…you read that book? Alaska?”

“That’s two in a row, but yes, I did. I see why it’s one of your favorites.”

My heart aches in happiness, something I didn’t know was possible. “It’s myfavorite, favorite.”

There’s a heavy pause before he answers, our eyes locked on one another so tightly it feels as though if that invisible string were to snap, the world would end.

“How do you think we’ll escape the labyrinth?” he asks softly. Sadness and deep melancholy transpires between us. He means the circus in our situation. I wish I had a better answer for him.

“I don’t know,” I say just as quietly.

“Do you trust me?”

His second question catches me off guard, but I nod silently.

“Will you tell me why you want this? Why you asked this of me?”

Ice pushes out all the lava that had just been flowing through my veins, and I shake my head, mouth opening and closing as I search for the answer. He deserves the truth, because it feels wrong to do this without telling him why. But if I tell him before, will he still go through with it?

I can’t afford for him not to at this point. Dick scheduled my meeting with the man this upcoming Tuesday night. If I want any control over this situation, then tonighthasto work.

“After,” I whisper. “And that’s four.”

He cocks his brow and smirks, dismissing my rejection with ease and brevity, something I am thankful for.

“God, I guess I’ll brace myself,” he teases.

For the remainder of the process, I keep my line of questioning lighthearted, and he does the same. The amount of rich laughter that bounces between us makes my chest ache with how full my heart is. We have more in common than it seems either of us thought, and each time we answer a question the same, our laughter doubles.

“This is seriously you and Cash?” I ask, pointing in the direction I hear the music emanating.

“Yes. Why is that so surprising?”

“It’s more…I don’t know. Annoying,” I mutter, trying not to move my face too much.

“How?” he asks, aghast.

“Because you’re good at everything. You guys should seriously start a band,” I say, being sincere. It shouldn't surprise me that his singing voice is even more devastating than his speaking voice. He dabs at my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, stealing my breath with the intimate gesture. Our eyes lock again, but before I can get sucked into the black hole that is his gaze, he grins.

“Mom’s coming.”

On cue, Tara knocks on the door frame to the bathroom, a garment bag draped over one arm, a bright and kind smile on her lips. Her eyes widen when she takes me in. I haven’t been allowed one glance in the mirror since he started, so I have no clue if he painted me to look like a damn clown or not.

“Oh,beautiful, Eden! Just like the photo of that dancer Teddy showed me!”

Brows furrowing, I glare at Teddy, who just smirks satisfactorily, smug with his work apparently.

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