Page 117 of Hide and Keep

“She’ll be fine. Ever doesn’t make mistakes.”

“I don’t…” I don’t know why anyone would willingly do that. Someone hoisting you over their head momentarily is one thing. Being catapulted into the sky with no safety equipment whatsoever is another and it’s insane.

“So…can I?”

“What?” I flick my gaze to Eighmey, her expression hopeful. “I’m…not on social media.” I think that’s what she asked. If I was on some kind of app.

“At all?”

“No,” comes out as I watch Ever get propelled into the air a second time, my heart feeling like it’s going with her. I don’t take another breath until she’s slamming back into those same arms.

“Text then?”

Tearing my arm from her hold, I rush over to Ever and pull her out from the three guys surrounding her.

Her laugh dies off when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?”

“You can’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

I gesture above our heads.

“You said it was okay for cheer. This is cheer.”

She thinks I’m talking about her being touched. It has nothing to do with that.

“I changed my mind.”

She steps close, too close while she looks likethat, and pleads, fuckingpleads, “Don’t take this from me,” like it’s the only thing she has.

“It’s too dangerous,” I plead right back like she’s the only thing I have.

Her features soften as she realizes I’m a pussy-ass bitch with a fear of heights. It’s not my heights I’m scared of though. It’s hers.

“If you die, I don’t get paid,” I say with a gruff voice in an effort to recover some of my masculinity. Shit’s slipping by the second.

“Nothing’s going to go wrong during my last performance. I promise.”

I scoff, my lips numb. “Until next season and then we gotta do this shit all over again.”

Ever doesn’t reply, only gives a single nod. I’m not trying to jinx her. I just…

Fuck. I have to get used to it somehow. Maybe I just won’t watch the baskets. The stunts, I’m pretty sure I can handle. Even though I don’t want another man’s hands on her, as long as Nathen’s got one of his on her at all times, I should be okay. Dude’s strong. He got his pickles. I saw him gnawing on one inthe tent earlier. It’ll be all right. Ever’s gonna land right where she’s supposed to, no hiccups.

“How many times do you do baskets?”

“How’d you know what they’re called?” She laughs again, not mockingly, almost like she’s impressed.

“Eighmey told me.”

The humor disappears as she looks past me, her eyes narrowing. I don’t care about Eighmey though. I don’t care if Ever’s mad she was talking to me. I don’t even care if she was my butterfly. I don’t fucking care.

“Ever?”

Her azure gaze returns to mine.

“How many?”

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