Page 47 of Unlocked Dive

20

Echo

Even if only Shilo and Byrd will ever understand why, it’s already turning into my favorite birthday ever.

I’m pretty sure everyone else was cheering more for the kiss than for the pirouette switch, but between the two, I’m so giddy that I don’t even need the beer that’s pressed into my hands or the shots that follow.Who needs tequila when I can be drunk on triumph and Byrd?Of course, everyone still wants their turn at a drink with the birthday boy.

Apparently, parties at Big Top involve a lot of talented people mixing risk and alcohol, because the next game turns out to be knife throwing. Shilo and Hals have an act they do every year in the show, and they seem to think it’s hilarious to coerce the other troupe members into joining the fun.

Hals invites me to give it a try, but I’m nursing a pretty solid buzz at this point and decide I’ve pushed my luck enough for one night with the switch. In the end, it’s Shilo and Hals, the two jugglers, Josha, andByrddragging the large wooden target to the back of the stage.

“You can throw knives?” I ask, nibbling at his short beard and taking the plastic cup he hands me. “That’s really hot.”

“You wait,” he says, turning his head to catch my mouth in a brief, searing kiss.

I’ve never seen him like this—oozing confidence and swagger. He’s still Byrd—the core control never wavers—but there’s an edge to it that borders on reckless, and the unexpected contrast has my cock at half-mast.

Watching the way he handles the knives, casual in his fingers, followed by the startling grace of the throw and the visceralthunkof inexorable contact, is doing seriously unholy things to my body. He’s almost as good as Shilo and Hals.

Shockingly, Josha is even better. The quiet, steady redhead never misses a throw, his methodical competence turned to prowling finesse with the wicked-looking knives in his hands.

“They should put you in the show,” I tell him when he joins me on my bench to take a swig of his beer. For the last round, they’ve pulled down one of the ropes still rigged above the stage and are taking turns trying to sink the target mid-swing. Josha grins and shakes his head.

“They’ve tried. I like my job offstage. Less chance of fucking up under a spotlight.”

I tear my eyes away from Byrd—he’s put his shirt back on, but his hair is still loose and tangled—to glance at my friend. Josha is staring past me, and if I turn to look, I know who I’ll see.

“So that’s Gemiah, huh?”

He blushes. “Have you met him yet?”

“Shilo introduced us outside after you bailed, remember?”

“Right. What did you think?” He asks it almost shyly, and I’m charmed that he gives a shit about my opinion.

“About as expected, based on what you’ve hinted. Cocky. Friendly in a snarky way. Hot as fuck.” I punch him gently in the arm. “Not my type anymore.” The look he gives me isunbearably grateful, so I change the subject. “Shilo seems pretty proud of him, even if she’s not one hundred percent happy with his current choices.”

“Studying at ENC, yeah. It was a total coup when he applied.” His voice goes wistful. “But he doesn’t have any interest in getting saddled with the family business and stuck in his hometown.”

“Fair enough.”

“I know.” He still sounds so glum, I can’t help feeling bad for him.

“Cirque hires riggers and engineers too, you know.”

“Those people have professional training. I’m just a guy who’s good at fixing things.”

“And throwing knives.”

“And throwing knives.” He smiles slightly. “But I’m not gonna be the pathetic guy who follows his hopeless crush around.”

“It could be a teen drama,” I tease, trying to lighten his mood. “Secretly lusting after the boss’s son.”

“The boss’sstraightson.”

I finally glance over at the guy in question and catch him watching us. As soon as he sees me looking, he turns back to the chick at his side.

“Maybe.”