His voice was lullaby-soft in her ear, his light eyes radiating concern. When he dropped his hands and furrowed his brow, she instantly regretted her choice of words, how brittle and broken she sounded, like a cracked china doll. In truth, she had never given much thought to what had transpired between the roustabout and herself. To dwell on it, to hold it close, would be to give it power over her, to infuse the fleeting memory with more significance than it deserved. That man had come and gone, a cruel wind that whipped through the circus with startling intensity only to disappear within the next month. His lips had been chapped, his hands brusque. His laugh was threaded with steel and something distinctly cold. He was nothing like Jade, and she wouldn’t dream of comparing the two, not even if she were feverish and hallucinating.
“I don’t feel bad,” she admitted slowly, cautious of offending her friend, of explaining herself in a way that could be misinterpreted as anything other than what she felt. She needed to be clear, concise. Not the for the first time, she wished she were a better speaker. “I think...I did want to, I was just surprised. Actually, I’m pretty sure I surprised myself.” Ava traced her lips with her index finger, her eyes widening. “Me threatenin' to kiss you...didn’t think I was bold enough.”
Jade’s hand hovered beside her like a fly, deftly avoiding contact, as though she would shatter if he so much as touched her. With a little more force than necessary, she grabbed it, held his fingers captive in her own. “I don’t want to pretend. It happened, and you know what? I’m glad it did. Least now I know what a real kiss feels like.”
Releasing him, she straightened her back and stood, and, despite the mud clinging to her skin and clothes, she felt pounds lighter. Ava shook out her damp hair and offered to help him from the slick ground. “Now maybe we oughta find a hose and get cleaned up. I don’t know about you but I’m startin’ to itch something fierce.”