12. Colt

12

COLT

I help Nash guide Flora, wrapped in my coat, into our trailer, my hand resting protectively on her lower back. It wasn’t lost on me the way Nash looked at me as I stroked myself just minutes before. We’ve opened doors to a world of new pleasures. It thrills me to no end.

The familiar space of our trailer feels different tonight, charged with an energy I’ve never experienced here before. We’ve shared this space as best friends and performance partners for ten years, but something has shifted.

Flora’s eyes dart around, taking in our living quarters—the small kitchen area, the worn but comfortable couch, and the two bedroom doors. Nash moves with his usual grace, getting water for all of us while I help Flora settle onto the couch.

“Make yourself comfortable, angel,” I murmur, hyper-aware of Nash’s presence behind me.

Nash hands Flora a glass of water, his fingers brushing against hers. We’ve never shared someone like this.

“You can take my room,” Nash offers Flora, but I catch his eye. There’s something new there, an intensity I’ve never allowed myself to acknowledge.

Flora curls up on the couch, clearly exhausted. I drape a blanket over her while Nash dims the lights. We move in perfect sync, just like during our performances. Still, the familiar choreography of our friendship feels charged with new meaning.

“Thank you,” Flora whispers, her eyes heavy with sleep. “Both of you.”

I settle into the armchair while Nash leans against the wall. The silence between us speaks volumes. We have been sharing this space and knowing each other’s every move and mood. But tonight has changed something fundamental between us.

Nash meets my gaze across the darkened room. Neither of us needs to say it aloud—we know this is the beginning of something.

I notice Flora trying to stifle another yawn. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You need rest after today.”

Flora bites her lower lip, a gesture I’m learning means she’s nervous. “Could you both... I mean, would you sleep with me?”

Nash’s rich laugh fills the trailer. “Well, we can’t use my room then. I have a small double bed and wasn’t planning on two visitors.” He pushes off from the wall, stretching his long frame. “Colt’s got the bigger bed anyway.”

“My room it is,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite my heart racing. “I’ve got a king size. Plenty of room for three.”

Flora’s eyes dart between Nash and me, her cheeks flushing pink in the dim light.

Nash extends his hand to help her up from the couch. “Come on, little bird. Let’s get you settled.”

My bedroom door has never seemed so significant as it does now, watching Nash guide Flora toward it. This is the first time we’ll share a bed—all because of this beautiful, broken angel who’s stumbled into our lives tonight. It feels like I’ve known her just as long as Nash.

“I usually sleep on the right side,” I offer, trying to maintain normalcy in this anything-but-normal situation.

“Always gotta be on your right side, don’t you?” Nash teases, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Even off the trapeze, you’re predictable.”

I roll my eyes. “You want to argue about sleeping arrangements all night or get some sleep?”

“Take your precious right side,” Nash concedes with an exaggerated bow. “I’m flexible. You know that better than anyone.”

I can’t keep my eyes from flitting down to his crotch at that statement, damn it. I want to see his legs splayed open in that masculine way, his cock standing tall… for me.

Fuck. I watch Flora drop my coat onto a chair as my blood races in my veins. It’s at that moment I notice the bruises on her hips and wrists. Bruises I know we didn’t cause. My jaw clenches.

Who hurt her?

I don’t mention it, but Nash looks at the same spots. He looks just as pissed as I feel.

The bed dips as Flora crawls into the middle, her movements hesitant. I pause just a second before I drop my pants, leaving on my underwear.

I settle onto my side of the bed, hearing the rustle of fabric as Nash’s pants fall gently to the floor. He settles on the left side of the bed. There’s a moment of awkward shuffling before Nash curves his body around Flora’s smaller frame, fitting against her like a puzzle piece.

Flora lets out a soft sigh and rests her head on my chest. Her hair fans out, tickling my skin, and I catch Nash’s knowing look over her head. The familiar scent of his aftershave mingles with Flora’s vanilla shampoo.

Nash’s arm drapes over Flora’s hip. I feel his fingertips barely brushing against my side. The touch, however slight, sends electricity through my body and makes my dick solid. Flora’s breathing begins to even out, her body relaxing between us.

“Comfortable, angel?” I whisper.

She makes a sound of contentment, already half-asleep. Nash shifts closer, eliminating the space between them, and I feel the mattress move.

“You need to get that shoulder looked at,” Nash whispers, his voice barely audible. “I noticed you favoring it with Flora.”

I roll my eyes. “Always the mother hen.”

“Someone has to be.” His fingers absently trace patterns on Flora’s arm. “We’ve got the Christmas show in three weeks. Can’t have you getting injured.”

“I’ll ice it tomorrow,” I concede, knowing he won’t let it go. Ten years of friendship have taught me which battles to pick with Nash.

“And see the physio,” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine.” I shift, careful not to disturb Flora. “But you need to stop pushing yourself so hard on the triple twist. I saw you wobble on the landing earlier.”

Nash’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “Noticed that, did you?”

“I notice everything about your performance.” The words come out before I can stop them.

“I know you do.” His voice is soft. “Just like I notice everything about yours.”

Flora stirs, mumbling something in her sleep, and we both fall silent. Nash’s hand has stilled on her arm, and I find myself studying the familiar lines of his face in the shadows.

“We should get some sleep,” he murmurs after a moment.

“Yeah,” I agree, though neither of us closes our eyes. “Goodnight, Nash.”

“Goodnight, Colt.”

We lie in comfortable silence, both aware of the weight of what remains unsaid between us, yet neither willing to shatter this moment.