Jingle Bell Rock

by Ella Frank

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”

  Robbie bit down on his lower lip, clearly trying to hold back a chuckle. “I would never.”

  “Liar,” I muttered as he guided me toward the gate to hell. When he stepped out onto it and smoothly glided to the edge of the rink to wait for me, I tried to remember why I’d agreed to this again.

  “Come on,” Robbie said. “Just take it nice and slow. I’m right here.”

  I warily lifted a foot and slowly placed it on the icy ground, doing my best to block out the people twirling and jumping all around us. Showoffs.

  “That’s it. There’s a nice break coming up. Just hold on to the edge and gently slide your— Whoa.”

  My feet scissored apart further than I would’ve liked, and Robbie lurched forward, placing a hand under my elbow.

  “I got you,” he said as his grip tightened and he guided me to the wall.

  I took a death grip on the rail and tried to calm my pounding heart. Jesus, please don’t let me break anything. Robbie slid in nice and close to me and ran his hand down my arm to entwine our fingers.

  “Thank you for doing this with me.”

  I eyed him like he was out of his mind. “Don’t thank me yet. This might be as far as I get.”

  “Maybe, but the fact that you’re even standing here on wobbly legs gripping the rail like a lifeline means the world to me.”

  “Robert…”

  He grinned like an imp, his rosy cheeks now cool from the ice. I leaned in to press a kiss to his lips.

  “I’m going to pay you back for this,” I promised.

  “I sure hope so.” He pulled back and then straightened. “Want to try moving from the rail?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  Robbie held his hand out and gestured for me to come to him, and when I reached for his hand, he said, “Okay, now slowly slide your foot like this. Left then right. Got it?”

  I did. But understanding and executing it were two completely different things. Praying someone with a gigantic blowtorch would come and melt this icy torture rink away, I did as I was told and hesitantly pushed off the rail.

  My legs swayed in an unfamiliar way beneath me, and as I did my best to do what Robbie had suggested, my left leg shot out one way as my right went the other.

  Robbie grabbed my elbows and pulled me to him, somehow managing to keep the both of us upright as I clung like a vine to his neck. This was completely and utterly humiliating, but when he rubbed his cheek up against my stubble and purred, I found one positive out of the moment. We were now standing as close as we could get with our clothes on.

  “That was good,” he said.

  “That was almost a hospital visit.”

  “No.” Robbie pulled back and ran his fingers down my cheek. “This is a moment. One I’ll never forget. Thank you.”

  The genuine pleasure in his sparkling eyes made my discomfort totally worth it. We stood under the twinkle lights with “All I Want for Christmas Is You” playing on the speakers and people whizzing by us. “You’re welcome.”

  Robbie gently let me go and grinned as he skated a little ways back from me. I frowned, and then he pulled his phone out and snapped several photos of me trying to stay upright, then skated around me, narrating a quick video to Julien.

  When he was done, he slipped the phone into his pocket and skated back up to me.

  “I take that back. You’re not welcome at all.”

  He giggled and took my hand. “Hey, there’s no way I wasn’t going to get proof of this.”

  “Me skating?”

  “No. How much you must love me.”

  That would be a whole hell of a lot, because there was no way I would’ve fallen on my ass twice in the ten minutes after that for just anyone—and Robert Thornton-Priestley knew it.

  Fourteen

  Ace

  “OKAY, HOW DO I look?” I could hear the excitement of the audience beyond the curtain, the arena now filled with a festive crowd as the Jingle Ball was about to begin.

  “Handsome as always.” Dylan ran a hand down the sleeve of my red button-up shirt and squeezed my hand. “I still think you should wear the Christmas hat Paige offered. I am.”

  “Yes, but you look adorable. I, well… The blinking lights would’ve distracted me.”

  “Suuure. Keep trying with that excuse, but I know better. You work in front of lights and cameras for a living.”

  “Fine, so I didn’t want to mess up my hair.”

  Dylan eyed my closely cropped hair and smirked. “More like you didn’t want to look—”

  “Ridiculous?”

  “Aww, where’s your Christmas cheer?”

  I took hold of Dylan’s chin and angled his face up toward mine. “I’m saving all my Christmas cheer for you…later.”

  Dylan’s eyes sparked with mischief. “And your big candy cane?”

  I chuckled. “Definitely. And if you don’t mention the hat again, I might even let you suck it.”

  “Ace? Dylan?” Paige’s voice made me look over my shoulder. “You ready?”

  “Ready,” we said at the same time, and then she frowned.

  “Ace, where’s your hat?”

  “Umm…” I feigned ignorance and took a step back toward the stage. “Don’t know, but—”

  “Ace and Dylan, you’re on,” the stage manager said, just in the nick of time.

  I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb. “I gotta go.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but before she could tear me a new one, I grabbed a grinning Dylan’s hand and led him with me onto the stage.

  The second we appeared, the excited crowd turned to a crazed one. The audience erupted with cheers, clapping, stomping feet, and catcalls. The spotlights followed the two of us to the center of the stage, and as we looked out at the winter wonderland Paige had created, I couldn’t help but admire her skill. Damn, she was really good at her job. She’d turned a sporting arena into something out of everyone’s Christmas fantasy.

  “Good evening, everyone,” I said into the mic, and when the cheering got louder, I chuckled. “Are we all feeling merry tonight?”

  A unanimous Yes! boomed back at us as though it was through a megaphone, and Dylan grinned and leaned into the mic.

  “Sounds like it to me. And who wouldn’t be feeling the Christmas spirit? Look at this place.”

  “I know.” I took in the icicles hanging from the roof, the snowy trees flanking the arena’s sides, and the blue and white wristbands flashing from the crowd. “I feel like I’ve stepped inside a snow globe. Let’s give it up for the mastermind behind this whole event, Paige Dawson. She’s really outdone herself.”

  The crowd agreed wholeheartedly. Dylan and I looked to the wings, where Paige gave a mock curtsy and then shooed us along. Of course she didn’t want to stop and take in the praise—it would throw her carefully planned schedule all out of whack. We couldn’t have that.

  “Now that that’s been said, welcome everyone to the Jingle Ball. We have some seriously exciting things happening tonight to raise money for many of the nonprofit organizations around the country that are struggling. From the hunger crisis, to the LGBT youth on the streets, and the arts that have taken a huge hit this year. Know that the money you paid to come and be with us tonight is going to a good cause, a worthy cause, a cause to help your fellow man. And we couldn’t be more thrilled that you decided to come and spend your Saturday night with us.”

  “Ace couldn’t be more right,” Dylan said. “We are beyond thrilled. We are thankful and grateful to each and every one of you for choosing to come out tonight and give back to your community. After all, that’s what Christmas is all about. Spreading the cheer and good fortune, and tonight we are going to do just that.”

  Clapping and cheering rang out as we stood there drinking in the joy filling the air, and I couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

  “Tonight there will be an auction with some fantastic prizes up for grabs.”

/>   “They really are fantastic,” Dylan agreed. “You know that yummy food you’ve been eating all night? You have a chance to bid on an all-expenses paid dinner at JULIEN.”

  “Mmm, I might have to try for that one. The food at JULIEN is the best I’ve ever tasted. Or if you’re looking for love and someone to maybe take to JULIEN, there’s free matchmaking up for grabs.”

  Dylan grinned up at me as the crowd went nuts, and I chuckled.

  “Yes, and there also happens to be a pair of VIP tickets for the next concert of a certain band that may or may not be here tonight—”

  “Fallen Angel! Fallen Angel!” the crowd chanted.

  I looked to Dylan. “Is that right?”

  “It sure is. And not only will you get VIP tickets, you also get to meet them!”

  The roar from the arena was so loud that it all but made the stage vibrate.

  “Exciting, right? And there’s a whole slew of other prizes in the mix also, but we’ll tell you about them later, because as much as we love talking to you, I’m almost positive we are not the ones you want singing.”

  “He’s right.” Dylan winked at the crowd. “There’s a reason he went into acting.”

  “I admit it, singing is not my strong suit. But I think we have a solution to that problem. Are you guys ready to get tonight started?”

  Dylan and I laughed as the hooting and hollering echoed around the arena. As someone who played to a camera for a living, I was used to attention. But I couldn’t imagine what it was like to play to an audience this big—and larger—on a nightly basis. The energy was palpable, the adrenaline easy to get caught up in, and when I leaned down and said into the mic, “Please help us welcome Fallen Angel,” the thunderous response nearly blew us off the stage.

  Fifteen

  LOGAN

  THE LIGHTS WENT low, a hush fell over the arena, and the crowd around us began to scream with excitement. Ace—that bastard—had given Tate a pair of VIP tickets before we’d left brunch, and that had us close enough to the stage that by the end of tonight I wouldn’t be able to hear for a year.

  That didn’t seem to bother Tate in the least, however, as he wrapped his leather-clad arms around my waist and moved in behind me.

  “You excited?”

  I glanced back to see a wide smile on his sexy lips. “About standing so close to the stage that I’m likely to get sprayed with sweat?”

  Tate chuckled and nuzzled against the collar of my black button-up shirt. “I’ve never known you to be worried about a little sweat. Plus, it’s Fallen Angel. People would kill to be covered in their sweat.”

  “Not this person. I don’t even know who they are.”

  “Yes, you do. I play them all the time at the bar. ‘Invitation’? ‘Hard’? I know you know that last one—you told me the lyrics were just your kind of filthy.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s only one person’s sweat I’d kill to be covered in.”

  Tate pressed a hard kiss to my lips, and my cock throbbed in response. “How about you stand here and pretend to enjoy it while I grind all over you? I promise to get hot and sweaty with you after.”

  I groaned and slid my tongue inside his mouth for a deeper taste, and when he rubbed his erection up against the tailored black pants covering my ass, I pulled back. “Fine. But don’t start something I’m gonna have to wait hours to be able to finish. It’s just mean.”

  “Yeah, but that’s half the fun.”

  I was about to turn around and show Tate the exact kind of fun I was interested in when a piano riff began to play over the speakers and the crowded arena erupted in a frenzy of cheers and wolf whistles.

  A spotlight then lit up the center stage, and there, sitting behind a gleaming white piano with wings soaring high up into the sky, was a man with his head bent down over the keys. With blond curls falling down all around his face, and dressed in all white, the guy could’ve passed for a higher being as he continued to play a melody that sounded like the stuff of angels. Then the drums, keyboards, and guitars entered the mix and the blond looked up and began to sing.

  Damn, okay, there was no mistaking how this band had gotten its name, because the man behind that piano looked and sounded like some kind of heaven-sent creature.

  “Remember them now?” Tate said by my ear.

  I shook my head, my eyes fixated on the blond stepping out from behind his piano and making his way up to the front of the stage.

  “But if I knew blondie up there was in the band, I would’ve paid much more attention. Look at those curls.”

  Tate flattened his hands against my abdomen and pulled me back into him as the song continued. “How about you stop looking at those curls?”

  “But you told me to enjoy it.” And suddenly I was.

  The members of the band had now moved to the front of the stage, and as the angel in white sauntered up to the surly guitar player standing directly in front of us, I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

  Mr. Surly had long, dark hair that fell down around his cheeks and chin, and the comparison of his devilish looks with the pure white angel rubbing all over him was hot as hell.

  Tate’s lips on my neck made me rock back into his body in time to the music as he slid his hand down to massage my throbbing cock. The angel’s eyes locked on us, and then he gave a wicked smile and slid an arm around his guitar player’s chest.

  Mr. Surly tipped his head back against the angel’s shoulder, and when the angel licked a path up his guitarist’s neck, Tate squeezed his fingers around me.

  Fucking hell. Tate hadn’t told me this band was scorching hot. But suddenly I didn’t care if I went deaf—my only hope was that I didn’t go blind…

  PANTHER

  “OKAY, WE’RE SO close to the stage that I think we were just breathing the same air as Ace Locke.” Solo grinned at me as the lights dimmed, and the excitement in the crowd hit an all-time high. “Fallen Angel is about to be right there.”

  It wasn’t often that I got to see Solo as tripped up as he was now. As he bounced on the balls of his feet in an effort to make himself taller, I couldn’t help but laugh. He was pumped, like he was about to strap himself into a fighter jet and blast up into the sky.

  I took hold of his hand, not quite believing I was about to see Fallen Angel perform mere feet from me. But when “Invitation”’s piano intro boomed out through the arena, I squeezed my fingers around Solo’s and strained to see whatever was about to happen on that mammoth stage.

  Like a calling card to all Fallen Angel fans around the world, the familiar tune echoed around the sparkling arena then the stage lit up, and there he was—Halo.

  The man dubbed “angel” by his boyfriend—and now the world—sat at his piano with his angel wings flanking him, and when Slade joined in with a thumping rhythm on his drums, the rest of the stage lit up and Solo and I shouted at the top of our lungs.

  This was unfuckingreal. With the buzz of alcohol and the thrill of seeing one of our all-time favorite bands, the high coursing through me was out of this world.

  A feast for the eyes and ears, it was hard to drink it all in as colored lights and massive screens on either side of the stage switched between videos and Halo as he made his way out from behind the piano and headed toward the front of the stage.

  Killian and Viper commanded either side of the stage with a confidence that was enviable, and Jagger added a sexy sophistication that made this band not only talented but hot as hell.

  Solo looked over at me and grabbed hold of my face to kiss me hard and fast. When he pulled away and laughed before turning back to the stage, I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in front of me. I needed my hands on him, needed him to know just how much I was enjoying this moment here with him, because there was nowhere on earth I’d rather be.

  We sang every single word at the top of our lungs along with the thousands of people here with us, and when Halo began to get all hot and heavy with his man on stage, the cro
wd went crazy.

  It was a testament to how far we’d come that the most famous gay action star in Hollywood had just introduced the worldwide rock phenomenon Fallen Angel, who had several out and proud members. It was also one of the reasons I had such admiration for them.

  These guys gave zero fucks, and when I thought back to the struggle Solo and I had faced when we first got together, it made me appreciate their openness even more.

  “They’re amazing!” Solo shouted. Halo moved to Killian and turned around so they were back to back, and then he belted out one of the highest notes I’d ever heard.

  Amazing was an understatement. Fallen Angel had taken on legendary status in my mind, and even though they’d only been together for a short amount of time, I had no doubt that years down the track we’d all be watching them get inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

  As the song slowed to the bridge, the crowd pulled their cell phones out and began to sway in time with Halo’s voice. I wound my arms around Solo’s waist and placed my lips to his temple and sang, “I want to be the one to make you fall from grace…”

  Solo swayed in time with me and turned so our lips met. “I’m pretty sure that was the other way around.”

  I grinned against his mouth, thinking back to the first time I’d seen Solo’s devil-may-care smile, and nodded. “Yeah, I think you might be right. Solo?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  We smiled at one another, looked back to the stage, and watched as Halo sang the final lines of his love song to Viper, and again I was struck by the enormity of the moment.

  Here we were surrounded by a crowd of people who didn’t care one way or another who went home with whom. You could love who you wanted to love without fear or prejudice, and that just made this night even more of a celebration in my eyes.