Page 34 of Fairies Never Fall

“You finished it?” His eyes sparkle.

“Yes,” I tell him proudly. “I think it’s my best one yet.”

When he looks up his cheeks are faintly pink. “I bet it looks great.”

“Well, you’ll have to see it at the show.” I make up my mind right there to wear it even if Bear chastises me.

Like usual, Ezra looks away while I change and climb into the bed. He only ever takes off his pants, and while I long to feel more of his skin against mine I’m scared to jeopardize what I have by asking for even more. Besides, it’s not like I need it. In fact, I don’t even know why the desire for it strikes me at random times.

As soon as he slides under the covers, the restless feeling rises in me again. I pull his arm over me and his chest expands rapidly against my back.

“It’s still helping?” he asks into the dark. He asks it a lot.

My eyes drift shut even though my body buzzes with strange energy. “No more nightmares,” I assure him.

There’s no need to tell him about the new dreams.

The next Sunday I bring the new costume downstairs. In the dressing room I pull the sheer, delicate material up my thighs, pleased at the way the lace glimmers subtly in the low light. It’s made of silk threads, which gives it a beautiful gleam. I spotted Ezra’s truck out front even though he’s not working today, and for some reason I’m buoyant. I can’t shake the feeling he’s here to seeme, not just the show.

The quiet knock on the door surprises me. When I open it, my fingers inadvertently squeeze the lace still gathered at my waist. “Ezra?”

“I just came to say break a leg,” he says, leaning against the door frame. His face reddens as his eyes flicker over me. I’m still bare from the waist up, since the costume’s fastenings are complicated.

“Break a…?” I stare at him.

“It’s a human thing.” His flush darkens and he finally meets my eyes. “Not literally! It means good luck, but it’s bad luck to say good luck to a performer… you know what, never mind.”

“No, wait.” I grab his arm. “I could use your help.”

He stops. “Anything you need.”

I pull the costume up the rest of the way quickly. “Can you do up the fasteners?”

Ezra’s gaze sweeps over me again, this time assessing, and something churns inside me. He nods. “Inside, though.”

I turn my back to show him what needs to be done. I can see him behind me in the mirror. He steps up, his warmth immediately basting me. His eyelashes flicker as he reaches out. There’s something different about his touch — normally, it’s confident and firm. This time his fingers barely brush my back as he fastens each hook.

In the mirror he looks up, meeting my eyes.

“It’ll be easier if you sit down.”

I stumble, and Ezra’s hand cups my hip to steady me as I lower myself into the chair.

“Can you count down from three?” I blurt, the demand taking me by surprise. “It helps me calm down.”

“Of course,” he rumbles. He leans over, his hot breath brushing my cheek. His hands are on me again. Something zips down my spine, through my gut, and into the apex between my thighs. “Three.”

I can’t breathe.

Ezra reaches for the fasteners on the other side, brow furrowed in concentration. He’s so close I hear the click of his jaw as he swallows.

“Two.”

Why is this different from all the other times he’s touched me?

What’s making my heart race like this?

“One.” His throat bobs.

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