Two

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TOBY EADS

"Toby."I look up from where I'm running my fingers through Darwin's mane to meet the orchestrator's eyes. "Ready?"

"Yes, Coach."

He rolls his eyes and I smirk as I turn back to Darwin. Leaning down, I pet his neck. "Ready, hellcat?"

Darwin is a three-year-old pinto. Beautiful, black and white, and smart as hell. At my question, he makes a nodding motion and releases a huff. And I love how I'm the only one he lets take him through the show without misstep. Everyone says that Darwin turns into a hellish beast when they try.

However, I've never seen it. Darwin always looks at me with big innocent eyes that I pretend aren't laughing when someone is telling me their stories about him. Secretly, I believe them. I can see it in Darwin's gaze. He can smell their fear and definitely plays to that.

On the outside, I pretend that they're out of their minds. Darwin is super gentle and attentive with me. He's incredibly smart and I swear, he has a sarcastic sense of humor. I'm not kidding when I say that he deliberately pretended to charge one of the other performers before stopping beside me as if that had been his only goal all along.

Did the performer almost wet himself? Pretty sure.

We're the fourth pairing out. I watch the others as I rub my hand over Darwin's neck before pulling the black and white covering down so that he's basically hidden. I call it his superhero mask. No one would know his identity once it's off.

Our black and white costumes are the only ones with a great big red cross on them. I tell myself it's because we're fashioned after the Knights Templar, whereas the others are branded after other kingdoms. Lion, wolf, eagle… they're all rather cliché, no? Not that the cross isn't cliché. Totally is. I'd rather have the pagan symbols, but I've also grown attached to the black and white costume.

When it's our turn, I nudge Darwin's side and he trots out, making the circuit smoothly as he does every time. I smirk, knowing that he doesn't perform this way for everyone. But we have a bond, and he's truly the reason I keep this job.

Also, it's fun. I get to charge people with long pointy sticks and brandish swords, maces, and other weapons from long ago. Who else can say they go to work with the intent to kill someone in the arena?

Okay, I don't actually try to kill them. Marty, though. Sometimes, I'd like to. Smug idiot.

After our circuit, basically without any direction from me, Darwin stops in our prescribed spot, and I look up into the crowd and wave, giving them my best smile. I've always thought about growing my hair out for the show but… it's like three hours out of my day, four days a week. I'd have to live with that long hair for the rest of my days too. It just feels like too much work.

We go through the first scenes and then leave the arena. Once we're out back, I slide off Darwin and some attendants close in to undress Darwin and help me take off the dressy part of my getup so I'm left in something I can actually move around in without a damn quilt hanging from my shoulders.

I make sure Darwin gets some water and together we take a few swallows before I climb back on him and wait to head back out. It's time for the games. Using a lance to pick little rings hanging off poles. That kind of thing.

After each two-ring apiece round, we get to throw flowers into the audience. I grab the first ring as Darwin trots across the arena easily. When my turn comes again, the second is just as easily won. Then I line up to receive my flowers dropped to me from Queen Penelope and Darwin brings me to our kingdom.

There's a very loud man in the front that I take a second look at. I can't help my grin when I recognize Hugo Bladen, defenseman for the Los Angeles Golden Tides. It's not often that I recognize someone in the audience, but I'm a huge hockey fan, so he's easy enough to spot.

However I turn my attention back and look into the audience. We've been coached to aim for little kids as much as possible. But mix it up so it's not quite so obvious. This round, I do just that. As many kids as I can for my six flowers. Then I turn back and line up for our next round.

Once more, I grab them all. Green knight—Herold—chuckles and says, "I sometimes forget how good you are at this."

"Long pole into tight holes? I'm well versed."

He sputters laughter as we part ways and I receive more flowers from our queen. This time, I let my gaze track through the audience. One of my favorite things to do is pick out the big, grumpy guy and toss him a flower. Just to see the way he nearly chokes on his tongue.

The ones I love the most are those that blush and give me a shy smile after. Yeah, bro. I see you. Men like thoughtful gestures too.

Equally lovely are the ones who get bright red and exaggeratingly mad. They have a very fragile man card. I totally just put a crease in it.

I've tossed three into the crowd when Hugo's cheers catch my attention. I intend to throw him a flower except… my eyes catch on someone else a few seats to Hugo's right. He's staring at me, pretty pink lips slightly parted. His dark eyes are wide, hair just barely falling into his eyes. It's the perfect length to grip onto and move him where I want him.

The surrounding noise calls me out of the moment and I remember where I am. There's no time to fall for this man I don't know with a single look. Who does that?! Instead of throwing Hugo the flower, I toss it to this man.

At first, I don't think he's going to even register that it's coming at him, but his reflexes are like a cat's. His hand, that was flat on the table in front of him, snaps out and catches it. He's startled, looking at the flower as if he'd never seen one before. I toss another one further back into the audience before glancing at him again.

There's this soft, sweet smile on his lips as he looks at it. Just as I'm turning around again, I catch him bring it to his face. His eyes flutter close as he inhales.

For some reason, I feel that inhale throughout my entire body. Like he's breathing me in.

Throughout the rest of the evening, I'm constantly looking for this man. And every single time I look his way, he's watching me. He hasn't let go of the flower, either. I pretend I'm performing for him alone. It takes a lot for me not to give him my favor when we're sent into the audience to choose a child. But as I gently wrap it around a little girl's neck like a scarf, my eyes are on his alone where he's twisted in his seat to see me.

Trust me, I'd rather have my hand around your neck, lovely.

Thoughts of him squirming under me, gasping as I control his breathing while fucking into him fill my mind and I hastily get back on my horse. Fuck. Riding a horse while hard isn't my favorite thing.

This might be disappointing to learn, but the outcomes of the evening events are predetermined. We don't throw the games portion… most of the time. That truly is based on skill. But jousting and then the subsequent fights after—yeah, it's a script. Tonight isn't my night to win, nor is it my night to challenge the winner.

Which is fine, except it means there's a lot of time standing around out back waiting. And I can't see this man with the hair I want to tangle my fingers in as I suck on his tongue. My thoughts are almost completely trained on this single guy and it's making me fidget that I'm stuck somewhere I can't look at him.

When the show is finally over and I join the others to make a last trip around the ring, I look for him. Our eyes meet and I'm really fucking thankful Darwin knows what we're doing because I'd have just fucked it up right now. The need to own him is fucking strong. My gaze remains trained on his nearly every step, even as I go through my part to smile and wave at the crowd.

In the back once more, I slide from Darwin and lean my forehead against his neck. "Thanks for having my back, hellcat," I murmur. I'm quite confident he understands me. The way he nuzzles me and kind of hugs me with his big head says as much. "I'll bring you extra goodies tomorrow, but you see, there's this guy that I kind of hope I can catch before he disappears from my life. Will you forgive me if I bail early tonight?"

I'm one of the few riders who remains behind to help take care of their horses. The others typically go out into the lobby and pose for pictures. If I go, it's usually late to the game.

From my pocket, I pull out a sugar cube and then kiss his nose. "Promise, I'll make it up to you. Be good for them, okay?"

His snort says he makes no promises.

I follow the other knights out and choose a place that's right in line with the door so I can see if he sneaks out. There's a chance he might have already but I'm really fucking hoping that he's stuck around. If I were the only one transfixed, I might have written this off. But he never once took his eyes off me when I was on the floor.

It's a lot of posing for pictures and pretending to be the knight I play. My gaze travels over the face in the crowd and I don't see him. My muscles feel tense for the missed opportunity.

I'm momentarily distracted when Hugo Bladen is suddenly there with his wide grin and enthusiasm. He offers his hand and we do this weird dudebro shake before he stands next to me for a pic.

"This was epic," Hugo says. "I knew this was going to be fun but, man, I want to live here. Are you hiring?"

I chuckle. "You're not going to make anywhere near what you make in hockey."

If anything, his smile widens. "You recognize me."

It's not a question. "Big fan, man. Definitely recognize you." If only he knew who I was. Not sure he'd be as impressed since my amateur comments and predictions aren't always in his favor. Many people take that shit personally, though I think a good athlete uses criticism to improve themselves.

Since I've never spoken to Hugo before and I pay as little attention to their ‘celebrity' status as I can while still keeping up to date on all things hockey, I'm not sure which category he'd fall in. It could go either way based on this little interaction.

"You totally should come to a game next season! Reverse the roles and watch me perform."

I grin. "Already have tickets."

I'm now one of his favorite people. Hugo huddles in close and points to where his friends are. My breath catches when I see the man from the stands there with his camera out. But he's not taking the picture. He's just staring at me. His gaze grips my chest.

Hopefully, I have a smile on my face. It's hard to tell right now when all my nerve endings are vibrating. He's right there. Hugo's friend. I'm only slightly aware that there are three other hockey players—all of whom I'm a huge fan of. But I can't take this moment to fanboy since I am literally trapped in this man's gaze with a desire so fucking deep, I can feel it in my bones.

Focusing on Hugo again is a challenge, but he doesn't seem to take offense at my bumbling. Maybe I'm not acting quite the mess I feel with the man's eyes on me. I swear, I can feel them on my skin.

Hugo eventually moves away and I watch the dark-haired sex on a stick walk away with him. Though he looks at me over his shoulder several times. I watch until he gets lost in the crowd. Minutes tick by and I don't see him.

I pose for a few more pictures, debating on how the fuck I can find him again. He's somehow connected to Hugo so that's a start. I'll have to take to trolling social media in a way I'm not used to.

Just as I'm thinking I'll slip out, the thinning crowd seems to part and he appears. Walking toward me. Does he feel how hungry I am staring at him? I'm fucking famished right now.

He looks almost shy, his eyes dropping slightly before he meets mine again. He stops next to me but keeps a healthy distance. One which I close immediately. I feel you. No need to be shy, baby girl. I can already tell he's going to be worthy of the nickname. I'm going to try it on real soon too. Just to see how he accepts it.

"Hi," I say when it's clear he can't find his voice.

"Hello," he answers after a deep breath. Then he's at a loss for words.

Fucking adorable. I give him another minute, but I determine that he's far too shy to do what needs to be done here. "You have somewhere to be right now?" I ask. "Or can I take you home?"

He's slightly startled, eyes widening. There's a moment where I think maybe I was far too forward but then he licks his lips and nods. "Yeah."

"Hang out here. I'm going to change. Ten minutes tops. Promise."

He nods.

"Name, baby?"

"Atty," he says, breathless. I'm going to keep him breathless until the sun comes up.

"I'll be right back, Atty. Stay right here." He nods. "I'm Toby," I tell him as an afterthought.

"Toby," he repeats, and fuck if I don't want to hear him scream it.

While I desperately want to run to the back, stripping on my way, I keep it as casual as I can while trying not to be stopped. It isn't quite as successful as I hoped. Even while avoiding eye contact, I'm stopped twice for a picture.

Finally, I'm in the back and I make quick work of my clothes. Tossing them on hangers and shoving my feet into my shoes, I practically race back out to the lobby.

He's right where I left him. I pause. For a minute, I just watch him as he looks around. Never moving from the spot where I told him to stay. My dick hardens right away. This man can follow directions.

I can already tell Atty is fucking perfect.