Page 34 of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree
“I’m far from perfect.”
“Princess, you’re pretty fucking perfect for me, and that’s what counts.”
Fucking swoon.
“What are we going to tell everyone?” I ask, unsure where this next step takes us.
I like him. I think he likes me.
But there’s the no-fraternization clause.
“What’s there to tell?”
I lift my head from his chest to meet his eyes.
“What’s there to tell?” I repeat.
“Everyone saw me kiss you last night like you were the oxygen mask on a crashing airplane.”
I snort a laugh. “That’s a great analogy. A plane crash.”
“I’m not good at all the flowery word bullshit. There’s a reason why Chris writes the songs. He and Noah…”
He grows quiet at the mention of JOY’s original keyboardist. The way he always does. The way all the guys do. I’m not going to lie. It still stings when that happens. Like I’m not enough.
But most of me understands. They’re worried for their friend, for their brother who is battling demons none of them could help him face.
“You’re pretty good at saying things I like to hear,” I assure him. “But even better at dirty talk.”
His laughter bursts out of him as he presses his lips against my neck.
“You like that, huh?”
I gasp as his length hardens once more and his whiskers tickle my neck.
“I do. Want to tell me some more?”
“You bet your ass I do.”
CHAPTER 9
EVAN
“I’m about sick of you fucking guys not listening to a goddamn word I say,” Marcus rants.
He’s been at it for over an hour, and his shade has shifted from beet red to mottled and splotchy, but his skin tone hasn’t been close to a natural hue since we got here.
I spare a glance at Chris, who meets my gaze with a roll of his eyes. He’s as nonplussed by Marcus’s latest monologue as I am. Unfortunately, I happen to be the subject, so I’m somewhat obligated to tune in here and there to what this pompous asshat with a comb-over is ranting about.
“We have a no-fraternization clause”—he pokes a finger at the flagged section in front of me—“for a reason.”
“We originally requested to strike that out,” Chris says from his side of the table.
Marcus glances up at him. “And we agreed it would remain when we altered the creative clause that allows you five to retain your music rights unless you choose to cede control over a song.”
“And that’s how Cornerstone got ‘Imagine My Touch,’” Chris fires back.
God, that song was incredible. One of Noah’s best. But it wasn’t one we could use, so we sold the rights to Cornerstone.
