Jingle Bell Rock

by Ella Frank

  This was exactly what I needed to take the edge off before tonight’s show. I’d just lose myself in my man’s body and—

  Knock, knock, knock.

  —answer the fucking door.

  I groaned and pulled myself off Shaw, but not before stealing one last kiss.

  “What the hell do you want?” I said as I opened the door a crack, only to see Killian standing there, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. “Oh. Hey, man.”

  He lifted a brow. “Bad time?”

  Shaw squeezed my ass, and when I glanced over my shoulder at him, he smirked. Damn troublemaker. “Course not. Come on in.”

  I opened the door and moved out of the way, and as Killian entered the suite, he got a good look at the front of Shaw’s tented pants.

  “Shit. Sorry to interrupt.”

  I snorted. “No, you’re not.”

  Killian held back a grin. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not. But this won’t take long.”

  “I’ll go check on the car—” Shaw started, but Killian shook his head.

  “Actually, I’d like to speak to you both.”

  “Oh.” Shaw looked at me, and when I shrugged, he gestured toward the couches. “Have a seat.”

  Always the most chill guy in any room, Killian swaggered into the suite and dropped down into one of the leather chairs. Other than yesterday’s soundcheck, I hadn’t seen him in a while, but not much had seemed to change since our TBD touring days. He wore his dark brown hair a bit longer now, not the close-cropped ’do he used to sport, and from what I’d heard, he was a one-man guy now, no longer entertaining groupies on a nightly basis. But he was still Killian, the only member of my former life who’d bothered to reach out after I left, so whatever he wanted to say, I’d hear him out.

  Shaw and I sat on the couch across from him, and I rested my forearms on my knees.

  “So, what can we do for you, Kill?” I said.

  He didn’t answer right away, only narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked between the two of us. Then a grin slowly lifted his lips. “You two secretly married yet?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Engaged? Living together?”

  “The hell are you talking about?”

  “I would’ve figured you’d jump right on that.” Killian’s smile grew, and he winked in Shaw’s direction.

  I rubbed my hand over my face. “Is that what you cockblocked us for? To ask if we’re still together?”

  “Just wondering if I’d get an invite to the wedding, that’s all.”

  Shifting back on the couch, I looked at Shaw stretching out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. He didn’t look half as uncomfortable with this topic as I did—not that the idea of being tied to Shaw in any way wasn’t something I already thought about on a daily basis. It was more a matter of when than if.

  “You think after the shitshow that was yesterday’s soundcheck that I’d invite any of you assholes? What the hell was that?”

  Killian lifted his hands. “I know. That’s why I’m here. To apologize.”

  “You’re not the one who needs to.”

  “True. But Viper’s not…in the right headspace to do that right now.”

  “Oh, give me a fuckin’ break.”

  “It’s true—”

  “You’re seriously gonna defend him? Again?” I shook my head. “Of course you are, because that’s what you do. You play peacemaker and cover his ass, not that he deserves it. Same old story.”

  “Trust me, I know as well as you do that he can be a dick when he wants to be, but he’s changed—”

  “Really?” I sat back and crossed my arms. “You know, I thought he’d changed too. I thought we’d truced it out and moved on, which is the only reason I even considered coming out here. But I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren’t. He’s just got some shit on his mind, and he’s lashing out. You know how he gets.”

  “Yeah, I do. That’s why I left.”

  “Trent, come on, man. It’s not personal.”

  I jerked forward, a response on the tip of my tongue until Shaw reached over and laid his hand on my thigh. Just one touch from him instantly calmed me down, and I let out a heavy breath.

  “Fine. I’ll listen. But at least tell me why Viper can’t seem to apologize for himself.”

  “I think he will. Eventually. He’s just got…a lot going on today. I can’t give you more than that, but trust me, you’d be in the same damn headspace. So just…try to give him a break, yeah?”

  I stared down my old bandmate, trying to read between the lines of what he was telling me and why I should give a fuck. Of course I wanted this whole thing to work out. It had to. One of the big selling points for the event was to see us all on stage together like we hadn’t had the biggest falling out in rock history. God knew I was the one who got the flack for leaving the band in the first place, and I wasn’t about to screw things up now.

  “He can do that,” Shaw said, squeezing my thigh, and as I looked at him, a small, knowing smile played on his lips. “Right, Knox?”

  “You asking me to be the bigger man?” I teased, and when he nodded, I sighed and faced Killian again. “Yeah, fine. I’ll try to refrain from knocking him over the head with my guitar.”

  “That’s all I can ask for,” Killian said, grinning broadly. “Thanks, man. And just so you know, we’re all glad to be doin’ this with you. Like old times, right?”

  “Yeah.” I relaxed back against Shaw’s arm, my annoyance and adrenaline draining out of me—for the moment. “Something like that.”

  Ten

  Ryleigh

  “HEY, YOU. DIRTY Dick Dawson. Get over here and tell me what you think of this.”

  Dawson looked up from where he’d been overseeing the hanging of my Licked After Dark banner and, when he saw the shot glasses set out in front of me, quickly moved in my direction.

  Thank God Paige had volunteered her husband to be my—in her words—“bitch” for the day, because I wasn’t sure I could do this without him. I needed a taste tester who could handle his alcohol as I did a final check of the specialty drinks I’d designed for the Jingle Ball tonight, and since my boyfriend, Hunter, was busy on a construction job, Dirty Dick would have to do.

  As Dawson stopped opposite the bar from me, he gave me a lazy grin. Even after all the drinks I’d given him so far, he wasn’t glassy-eyed in the least. Things to be grateful for: my BFF and her man being complete lushes.

  “More naughty Christmas shots just for me? Are you and Paige trying to get me drunk?”

  “She volunteered you for a reason,” I said with a wink. “Okay, so I need you to tell me which of these you like the most.”

  Dawson eyed the three shot glasses filled with varying shades of green mixed liquor. “All of them.”

  “You haven’t even tried them yet.”

  “But you don’t know how to make a bad drink, Ryleigh.”

  I shook my head. “I appreciate you blowing smoke up my ass, but how about you take the shots, please and thank you.”

  “Don’t have to ask me twice.” Dawson lifted the lightest-colored glass to his lips, took a sip, and then made his way down the line.

  When he set down the last shot glass, I drummed my fingers along the bar. “So?”

  “So I was right. They’re all fucking delicious.”

  “But if you had a favorite, it would be…?”

  “All of them.”

  Groaning, I dropped my head in my hands. “If you don’t stop being difficult, I swear I’ll have Paige replace your guyliner with a Sharpie.”

  “Ouch. That’s harsh, Ry.”

  “Then give me an answer so I can finish getting things ready. I only need one Grinch’s Jingle Balls.”

  Dawson stared at me for a beat and then shook his head. “Of course you do. Let me try them again.” This time he sipped from darkest to lightest before pushing the middle glass forward. “This one tastes most like a Grinch’s Jingle Ball.”

 
“Balls. And about time,” I said, grabbing the chalk so I could write the drink’s ingredients on the board.

  “Is he being difficult? Should I fire him?” Paige’s voice rang out as she sauntered toward the bar.

  “Mmm, hello, love.” Dawson wrapped his arms around Paige’s waist and lowered his head to kiss her neck. “You taste even better than a Grinch’s Jingle Balls.”

  Over his shoulder, Paige raised an eyebrow at me. “That hardly sounds like a compliment.”

  “Oh, but it is.” I brushed my chalky fingers on my frilly fifties-inspired Christmas apron and pushed the shot glass her way. “Try it.”

  She slapped Dawson’s ass before pushing him away, and after downing the rest of the green liquor in one swallow, she nodded. “Tasty balls. What else ya got?”

  “Well, Ace requested a lemon drop, so that’s the Locke Licker. Randy Rudolph is a twist on a cosmopolitan, and we can’t forget our favorite white Russian, known today as Santa’s Coming.”

  “Ooh, dirty girl. I like it. Make sure you save me at least three of those for later.”

  “Locked and loaded, and I’ll even put cherries on top.”

  Paige grinned. “You’re so good to me. What would I do without you?”

  “Ask Shayne or Quinn to do it?” When she laughed, I knew I had her number. There wasn’t anything any one of us wouldn’t do for each other, and keeping each other liquored up as needed was the least of it.

  “Ugh, I can’t believe Quinn’s gone MIA, and what the hell with Shayne letting Nate drag her off to freezing Michigan for the holidays? All she’ll get there is a pair of blue balls for Christmas.” Paige leaned on the bar, her chin resting on her fist. “You know she didn’t even have the right clothes? I had to loan her my winter wardrobe.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not like we need heavy jackets in L.A. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “You’re going to give me the ‘she’s got Nate to keep her warm’ spiel now, aren’t you?”

  “Well, she does. And he is pretty hot.”

  “But she’d have so much more fun here. I mean, look at this place.” She gestured around at the decorated arena that, even unlit, took my breath away. In a few short hours, this place would be a winter wonderland, and I couldn’t wait.

  “You’ve seriously outdone yourself.” I noticed Dawson eyeing the remaining shots and pushed the glasses his way before turning my attention back to Paige. “You dying yet?”

  “Me?” Paige tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder. “Please. I could do this in my sleep.”

  “Yeah? I heard some rumblings that the Fallen Angel guys were having issues yesterday.”

  “Oh, I smacked that shit down real fast. It was more of Viper having an issue with Trent, blah blah blah, ego stuff, blah blah blah, you left the band, blah blah blah, I still hate your guts.”

  “Uh, they are still playing tonight, right?” I couldn’t imagine the event could happen without the main performers, and I definitely didn’t envy Paige’s job. I’d stick to my boozy shakes and drinks, spank you.

  Paige rolled her eyes. “Duh. I regulated.”

  “What my girl does best,” Dawson said, throwing his arm around Paige’s shoulders and kissing the top of her head, and as she leaned into him, she nodded.

  “Damn right. That’s what I do—” Paige’s words cut off as behind the happy—if not somewhat unconventional—couple, one of JULIEN’s catering staff timidly tapped Dawson on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me,” the girl said, her pale skin blushing fiercely. “I don’t mean to bother you, but, um…could I get an autograph?”

  The three of us went still, and then, one by one, we looked at each other in confusion.

  “I-it is you, right?” the girl stammered, and bit her lip. “From Fallen Angel?”

  My snort caught the girl’s attention, but I quickly covered up my laugh by coughing. She thought Dawson was one of the Fallen Angel guys?

  Dawson blinked in surprise, and then he smiled, the cocky, self-assured smile of someone who really was a member of one of the hottest rock bands in the world. He dropped his arm from Paige’s shoulders and took the girl’s hand in his, bending down to press a kiss to her knuckles. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

  Paige looked over her shoulder at me and mouthed, Is he freaking kidding? and I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  A dreamy look crossed the girl’s face as he took the pen she offered and signed an event brochure, and I had to wonder where she got the idea he was famous. Maybe it was the way he dressed? He was more casual today than usual, but only because he couldn’t hang a banner while wearing a suit. But with his long dirty-blond hair, a collared shirt with a gaggle of necklaces holding it open, and rings on most of his fingers—along with the aforementioned guyliner—I guessed he did look like someone who belonged in a band. Too bad I’d heard him sing karaoke, or maybe I’d fall for it too.

  Dawson grinned as the girl skipped away, practically walking on air, and Paige groaned.

  “Fuck me. There goes his ego boost for the rest of the year. He won’t be able to fit his head through our front door.”

  “Don’t be jealous, love. She couldn’t possibly have enough issues to keep me completely occupied.” His teasing smile was infectious, and I laughed as Paige pushed him back toward the banner that still needed finishing.

  “So, Ry. You need more time with your booze, or can you come steal some of JULIEN’s gold-dusted truffle popcorn?”

  Eleven

  Halo

  “I DON’T THINK we’re allowed in there.” I stopped just outside the open doors of the conference room that had been converted into a war room for the company putting on the event, and stared at the other four members of my band, who were peering inside like a bunch of busybodies.

  Viper—my boyfriend, and also the sexiest guitarist on the face of the planet—glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “What are they gonna do? Fire us? We’re the headliners, Angel. They need us.”

  It was an arrogant claim, but that was part of Viper’s appeal. His confidence. He also wasn’t wrong. Ever since we’d arrived at the arena for this weekend’s charity ball, Paige and her crew had all but bent over backward to accommodate us. They’d also put up with some rather…contentious rehearsals.

  I was still trying to work out what exactly had happened yesterday during the soundcheck to make Viper so disagreeable. I’d thought he and Trent had buried the hatchet months ago, but apparently I was wrong. Viper hadn’t seemed to relax until the two of us got back to our hotel room, where he told me everything was fine.

  So far, that seemed to be the case. He’d woken me up to breakfast in bed, followed by a particularly enjoyable exercise routine that also…took place in bed. Then we’d made our way over here to meet up with the rest of the guys.

  “Let’s sneak in,” Slade, our drummer, suggested. “Find the auction list and check out what’s up for grabs.”

  I frowned and checked to see if there was anyone who looked like they had the authority to grant us entry, but there was no one but us standing in the near vicinity.

  “Just like that? Don’t you think it would be easier to, I don’t know, ask someone if we’re allowed in there?”

  “Angel…” Viper sauntered over to me, his jeans fitting his legs in a way that was indecent. My eyes roved up to his face, and he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Stop worrying. If someone catches us, I’ll tell them it was my idea. That I made you do it.”

  I scoffed as he hooked his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and tugged me forward. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Made me, huh?”

  “Yep.” Viper nipped at my lower lip. “We’ll say I blackmailed you.”

  “Oh yeah? With what?”

  Viper’s eyes darkened, and wow, as always, everything else around us seemed to vanish. “Hmm. I threatened to sleep on the couch.”

  That made me laugh. “You would never.”


  “They don’t know that.”

  Bullshit. Anyone with half a brain would know that Viper would never sleep on a couch if he had a naked body—my naked body—in his bed. No way. Viper slept curled around me, connected head to toe, every night of the damn week. “Okay, you win. I’ll help you look for the list.”

  His wicked smile went hand in hand with the arrogance from seconds ago.

  “Are you two done?”

  I pulled away from Viper to look at Slade, who was watching us with a bored expression.

  “We only have a limited time here. Can you suck face later?”

  Viper pulled away from me to flip him off. “You’re just jealous because Imogen couldn’t be here this weekend. I still don’t understand why you and Jagger don’t just—”

  “Halo, muzzle your man, would you?” Jagger said as he glared Viper’s way.

  “But your partner just told us to stop sucking face.” Viper slung his arm around my shoulders. “So which is it?”

  “How about you all shut the hell up so we can get in and out of there while no one’s watching?” Killian said.

  I grinned. “You mean while Levi’s busy talking to Paige?”

  “Well, yeah. I want to get laid tonight, not spend my time explaining why I snuck in here with you morons.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Slade grumbled. “Don’t even try to act like you don’t wanna see what’s up for grabs.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Killian, Jagger, and Slade walked through the door ahead of us. Viper took my hand and winked at me.

  “So, you think there’s anything on the list that you want to bid on?”

  “Hmm.” I pondered his question as he led me into the empty room. “I don’t know, you think there might be a date with Ace up for grabs?”

  Viper stopped dead in his tracks, and when I looked at him, he scowled. “You better be fucking joking.”

  I shrugged. “I mean, it is Ace Locke.”

  “He is also married. Or have you conveniently forgotten about that?”