Carly offered a wave back. The connection from the other night was still in full effect.

Bam. She smacked right into somebody. Tinsley. The set woman. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Carly said.

“Yeah. Probably best to keep your eyes forward.” She flicked a look in Lauren’s direction. “Instead of over there. Make sure everybody is safe.”

Carly offered a salute. “On it.”

Tinsley tolerated her at a minimum. Carly was pretty confident it was because of her own interest in Lauren. Jealousy flared, and she quieted it. She had no ownership of Lauren, even if she secretly hoped she had no interest in Tinsley, or anyone else for that matter. One thing Tinsley had over Carly—Minneapolis. She was a permanent fixture. Carly wasn’t.

“When you make this corner, be aware of the edge right here. Use the tape as your guide.”

“Got it.” She followed Trip to their next destination. Carly generally considered herself a casual dater, never getting too serious, never demanding too much of the other woman. She was young, and out to enjoy herself. Why did this feel like the stakes were so much higher? A Tinsley in the mix should never have bothered her.

“Any questions?” Trip asked. He looked at her. She looked back.

“No, I think you covered everything. Very thorough.” She pointed at herself. “Impressed.” She realized, lamely, that she’d probably only registered about half of Trip’s instructions, which couldn’t have been good.

It wasn’t.

Two hours later, during a run of lighting cues, she slammed smack into an end table on her exit, which kicked her into one of those incredibly graceful foot shuffles, where you thought you might just remain upright, but no. “Ow,” Carly mumbled as the pain arrived.

“Hold, please,” she heard Trip say over the God mic. The lights came on and seven different people moved to Carly, who held up her hand from the floor that she was fine.

“I’m good. Just a very stupid exit is all.” She chuckled and tried not to point out that the front portion of her right thigh throbbed from the collision with the hefty end table, and the ankle on her same foot hurt from where she twisted it trying to prevent herself from falling.

In the sea of faces crowded around her, it was Lauren’s that pulled her focus. “Did you try to take that set piece out?” she asked with a grin.

“I don’t really feel like it matches Ashley’s taste,” she said back with some sass.

Lauren’s fingers went around her arm to steady her as she stood. “Seriously, are you okay?” The stagehands, seeing she was upright, stepped back.

Carly nodded. “I’m an idiot, but I’ll live.” She leaned in closer to Lauren. “But I’m not going to refuse any TLC. I’m no fool.”