He rubs his hand over his sharp jaw before bringing the cigarette back between his lips. Inhaling. He stops in front of me, flicking the barely smoked cigarette out to the side. I’m suddenly aware of his proximity, my throat closing and making it hard for me to swallow.
“Look at me.” His voice is low, a note above a whisper, and my stomach does a backflip. Why the fuck does it do that?
I clench my jaw, refusing.
He chuckles. “So fucking stubborn.” Before lifting my head up to face him with his finger beneath my chin. He searches my eyes. I bite down on my inner lip in an attempt to numb the feelings that are rushing through me right now.
He opens his mouth—
“—Hey!” Maya comes up from behind me, and I flinch. I’m such a fucking idiot. I know the type of guy Killian is, only he’s much worse than any of the boys from the Keys. Far worse than the rich entitled brats that liked to flash their boats and parents’ money. Killian and this world are so much worse than any of that, yet here I was, ready to let Killian work whatever mindfuck game he wanted to play with me.
“Sorry, was I interrupting something?” Maya asks, looking between Killian and me. I notice her somber expression.
“No—” I assure, turning around and leaving them to it. Killian comes with drama, I know this. For one, he’s sleeping with a girl in my act. Two, he sleeps around, period. With a lot of girls. He’s actually the worst out of all of The Brothers, and three, his best friend is in love with him.
He is everything that is wrong with the men in this generation and I need to stay away. I needed to stay away from him before all of that, and even more so because of that.
I step into my cubicle, ignoring Perse, Kenan, and Callan who were talking when I rushed back inside, desperate for something, anything, to take my mind off the fact that I almost let the enemy kiss me. I flip on my hair straightener and pull out the clothes that I’m going to wear for the rope act. A button-up crop top that cuts low and leather shorts. I yank off my shorts and toss them to the corner, just as the curtain tears open from behind me.
I turn my head to look over my shoulder, my hair falling over my back. Killian glares at me, before he breathes in my almost naked body. “What do you want, Killian?”
“The fuck was that?”
I bend over—yeah, a little bit on purpose—and pick up my new leather shorts, standing back straight and slipping them over my legs and ass. I turn around while doing up the button. “That was nothing.”
He steps closer. Suddenly, my skin prickles with his presence.
“Kill!” Perse scolds, coming between us. “Leave her alone.”
“It’s fine, Perse, I can handle him.” I glower at Killian as the words slip from my mouth.
“Oh, Baby G…” Kenan whisper-chuckles from behind me.
Killian laughs, his head tilting back as his teeth flash. He brings his eyes back to mine and bares his teeth. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Then he turns and leaves, taking my breath with him.
I sag forward, pressing my palms on my thighs.
“Jesus,” Perse whispers, whacking me with the back of her hand. “That is a fire that you cannot bend, baby girl. He will not only burn you down, but the rest of us with you. That is where he and King are different. Killian is reckless and malicious. He vibes at a different frequency than all of us.”
“He’ll be fine.” Even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. I know that there is a lot of substance to what she is saying, but the second I admit it, I allow fear into me, and that’s something that I’m not willing to give him access to. Besides that, Killian is the trickster of them all. He plays with people’s minds for shits and giggles, without any care of what that would do to the person’s life.
Turning back around, I blow out a deep breath and continue to get ready for my final fire act. Slipping on the horns, I smoke up my eyelids and ruffle my hair. Finally, I slip to the back, clutching the rope in my hand and a Zippo in the other.
The curtains open and “Play with Fire” by Sam Tinnesz starts playing as I spark the ball up and start swinging it slowly in circles. I keep an eye on the gas that drips to the ground, making sure there’s enough there to ignite when the time comes. “Drop it low.” I’m bent sideways, the ball flinging in circles. I swing it lower as I hear Killian’s bike rev from the other side of the tent. I glance up and smirk at the audience.