Free Roustabout (The Traveling #3) by Jane Harvey-Berrick

all of the time.
    For a second, I was tempted to call Tera. But hell, she didn’t need my shit, and she’d made it damn clear that all she was offering was sex. Of course she wouldn’t want to get mixed up with a guy like me—or the shit that my life had been before I joined the carnival.
    I was halfway across the fairground before I knew where I was going.
    Jade was one of a pair of trapeze artists that traveled with us. I’d hooked up with her a couple of months back and she’d let me know that she’d be up for another go-around. She was cool, and the only reason I was prepared to make an exception to my rules was because she wasn’t interested in a relationship. And I really needed to get laid right now. I needed to stop thinking, stop feeling. I needed to be me, the Tucker McCoy who didn’t give a shit about anyone else.
    She was doing stretches outside her RV when I walked up, her body bending and flexing in some seriously crazy ways.
    “Hey, Tucker! Aw, you brought whiskey. You might just be the ideal man.”
    She grinned, and relief flowed through me. I wouldn’t have to talk, wouldn’t have to think about anything else tonight.
    I crouched down next to her and pulled her lips toward me, kissing her hard. I ignored the voice in my brain that said she didn’t taste as good as Tera.
    “Someone’s eager,” she said breathlessly. But then she pulled away. “Jeez, Tucker, you stink. When did you last shower?”
    “Earlier,” I mumbled against her neck. “Morning.”
    “Yeah, well I’m not going to fuck you smelling like that. Go take a shower.”
    “Come with me,” I said, pulling her to her feet.
    I didn’t have to ask twice.
    I fucked her in the shower and twice in her bed. Hours later, as the carnival sank into silence, she snored softly. For me, sleep was as far away as ever. I needed the distraction of a show, needed the concentration of a performance, because that meant there was no space in my head to think of anything else.
    But now, with the too quiet space around me, I couldn’t even close my eyes, because when I tried, I saw Tera’s beautiful face staring at me, disappointment curling the sides of her mouth downwards.
    Why the hell did I feel guilty? She wanted a hookup and that’s what she got—no strings. But that didn’t stop the acid pooling in my gut. Tired and frustrated, I scrubbed at my eyes.
    If sex didn’t work, I’d try booze.
    I rolled out of her bed quietly and headed back to the RV. I checked my phone, seeing two missed calls from Tera, but she hadn’t left a message.
    We were supposed to hook up again tonight, but I couldn’t use her like that. She was sweet, decent. And she was Kes’s sister. What the fuck had I been thinking?
    Zef was sitting outside the RV drinking from a bottle of bourbon. He handed it to me without asking where I’d been, and we sat there quietly as the bottle passed between us.
    Eventually, he spoke.
    “You gonna carry on ignoring this?” he asked.
    I took another swallow, beginning to feel numb at last.
    “Yep.”
    Zef raised an eyebrow. “Real mature, Tucker.”
    “Yep.”
    He took the bottle out of my hands and took another long slug. “You never asked me why I was in prison.”
    I looked at him sideways. “None of my business, bro.”
    “Yeah, I used to think that was the reason, but it’s because you didn’t want anyone to ask questions about you, isn’t it?”
    I didn’t answer, but he didn’t expect me to either.
    “If I’d dealt with my shit earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten arrested,” he said. “Maybe I wouldn’t have let down my little brother and gotten sent away when he needed me. Maybe . . .”
    “Is this your bedtime story now?” I asked, leaning back on my elbows. “And the moral of this story is . . . ?
    He replied evenly, “you’ve gotta sort your shit. Sooner rather than later.”
    He stood up and screwed the lid back on the bourbon before taking it with him. Douche .
    I rubbed my hands over my