I knewCirquewould be new and thrilling, but I certainly didn’t imagine my first bar fight would be at my place of employment. And it wasn’t even a good story to tell. I wasn’t defending a woman’s honor or setting right some injustice. I merely stumbled into a situation I wasn’t expected to be in, and the person panicked.
James had made so many jokes about me getting my ass kicked by a clown over text that I finally agreed to meet for a drink. The story was too hard to explain in a text message, and I knew he wanted to get a look at me and see that I was in one piece. He was that kind of friend, though. He would mock the situation or make jokes, but only after knowing I was completely fine.
I walk him through the entire incident, making the intruder a few inches taller and a little more buff. For storytelling purposes, of course.
Right now, the only thing causing me pain is a wound of my own making. I let my head roll forward and then drop my head into my hands, grumbling out my frustrations into my palms as I press them harder against my eyes.
“You’ve got to say that again, but this time try using real words,” James shouts at me, talking slowly and enunciating like I’m hard of hearing. I lift my head and prop my chin in my palm instead, the other hand reaching back out to cradle the beer that tried to choke me.
“I think I fucked up,” I tell him, knowing full well what I’m about to say is only going to add to the dark opinion he already has of my job. But I need to talk it through with someone. Maybe get some insight on what I could have possibly done to suddenly find myself a spectator instead of a participant.
“Oh, this is fun,” he rubs his hands together, giddy at the idea that I did something foolish and stupid. So supportive. The glare I shoot his way must look more pathetic than meanbecause his features soften slightly and he nudges my elbow with his own, a silent request to keep going.
“The one time I didn’t have my phone in hand and ready in case Harper needed me seems to be theone timeI was needed. Twenty minutes, that’s all it took for me to miss one text from Harper, and when I got to her office to help, I was met with a locked door and muffled voices on the other side. When I knocked, Sadie barely cracked the door open to tell me I was no longer needed before slamming it shut before I could utter a word.” He looks at me expectantly, waiting for some dramatic plot twist that would make his jaw drop. I don’t know how to explain that after only two months with these people, I can tell when something isn’t right. And somethingdefinitelywasn’t right.
“What did she need help with in the first place?” he asks.
“I still don’t know. I spent the next hour pacing back and forth outside the closed door before it finally opened, Sadie holding it wide as Wade strode through carrying a large crate without even a grunt of acknowledgment in my direction. I know we aren’t buddies or anything, but usually I get at least a grumbled hello,something. Sadie turned to me as she let the door go and it was like she’d aged ten years over the last hour, face ashen and drawn, giving me a nod before she shoveled a handful of candy into her mouth and made a beeline for the exit.”
“Candy?” he asks, confusion morphing into amusement.
“Don’t get me started. It’s a whole thing.”
The only thing that didn’t feel weird was Sadie devouring whatever candy she could get her hands on. Sadie leaving in the middle of the day though? Weird. Especially after being so intent on upping the security measures to protect Harper, she just watched the new personal bodyguard walk out right ahead of her, both abandoning their positions because of…something.
“Well, what did the Queen of Darkness say when you asked her what was going on?” James interjects.
I glare at him before responding. He knows I’m not a fan of his tested-out nicknames for my infamous boss.
“I didn’t even get a chance to ask her. She basically cut me off before I could, immediately letting me know she would be working from home the rest of the day before following her sister and bodyguard out the door.”
“So, she’s doing something illegal,” he says with a wave of his hand that sounded a lot more likeso what else is new?
I shake my head slowly, weighing his words against my instinct. “I don’t think this was a sneaky kind of avoidance. This felt more like…” I trail off.
“Like what?” James pesters while I try to find the right word, remembering the haunted look Sadie has carried all week and the way Harper’s avoided eye contact, even when it was just us alone.
His arms twist in front of him in aspit it outgesture. “Honestly, fear. The whole lot of them looked afraid. Okay, well maybe not Wade, but he might just be better at hiding what he’s feeling. It’s literally his job to stay calm. But Sadie, she looked like she was in a living nightmare.”
All week it continued like that. Sadie basically hiding from everyone and staying locked in her little security bunker, emerging every so often to throw away candy wrappers and restock. Harper was no better—more paranoid and curt, eyes constantly looking for something in the shadows.
One noticeable difference, while Sadie looked scared, Harper lookedpissed.
Wade was the only one who seemed unaffected, but honestly, I don’t know him well enough to know what an affected Wadewouldlook like. For all I knew, he was cool and collected on the outside and a writhing mess inside over whatever happened that day.
I spent the rest of the week trying to be helpful and patient with Harper, letting her know I was here for her. But there is only so much I can do when I don’t know what the problem is. I want to help, and she wants to create distance.
To say this is not how I expected things to go between us after the night of the bachelorette party would be a massive understatement. It was like taking one step forward and then several giant leaps back. She went from leaning into my touch to acting like I had the plague.
And I would love to think it’s something I did or maybe that she just changed her mind, but I swear every time I go into her office, or we are alone in the gym, I can see the hope in her eyes, the desperation to tell me what’s been running her ragged these last few days.
She’s distracted all day, with me, in meetings, on the phone. Nothing holds her attention for more than a few moments before her face is buried in her phone, or her eyes glaze over in thought.
Of course, I can’t tell James any of that, because then I would have to explain the kiss and the shower and everything in between. He would never approve of this for so, so many reasons, but I also don’t think I would be able to describe what it felt like to finally kiss Harper.
How do I explain that Ineedher without him yanking me out ofCirqueby the suspenders?
I expected some relief, that some part of me would be soothed that I held her and felt the way she fit against me when our lips touched. Finally getting what I had wanted for so long, the way athletes feel winning a championship, or actors when they finally get an Oscar. It was like her kiss had the opposite effect on me. Instead of calm and happy, I feel jittery and wired. It woke some part of me I didn’t know was missing and now that I’ve tasted her, I don’t know how to continue without it. My hands constantly reach for her, to tug her to my side, to twineher hand in mine, to tangle my hands in her hair. How do I explain the sacrifices I would make to be the reason she falls apart in bliss? Her moans and whimpers spoken against my chest this time when I’m buried?—
