Page 106 of If Only In Our Dreams

Because thirty minutes later, my meds had kicked in, my back was loose and warm, and he was kneading the muscle with his talented hands on my bed.

I’d wanted to take him apart piece by piece.

Wanted to edge and tease and torture him.

I’d had a plan, dammit.

But my body fought me once again—and I had no choice but to concede to it. Robin didn’t seem to mind though as he settled into my side and his fuzzy toes skimmed my thigh. “You wanna watch a movie?” he asked, voice soft.

“Mmm?” I hummed, cracking an eye open to look at him.

He had his phone out, one already loaded up.

It was an old film.White Christmas? Maybe. When the title popped up, I hummed thoughtfully, realizing I’d been correct.

“I like the music,” Robin confessed, his phone propped up so that I could see it without straining my back. He tangled our thighs together on the bed, and my heart warmed as I soaked him up greedily. His little socked feet kept brushing my calves and shins, legs as short as ever—and I couldn’t help but find that adorable. “This is the kinda shit I wanna make, you know?”

“Why don’t you?” I asked, as the sweet crooning from the microphone filled the room.

“I can’t.” Robin’s brow ticked down. “Label won’t let me.”

I blinked, then frowned. “Baby.” I twisted to look at him better, noting the unhappy tilt to his lips as he shrugged a shoulder.

“They said it’s not part of ‘my brand’,” Robin admitted, like he was directly quoting someone. “They won’t even let me sing Christmas songs for theChristmasparty they’re making me host onChristmasEve.”

“What party?” This was the first I was hearing of it.

Did that mean he wasn’t going to be home for Christmas?

My heart lurched, some of my fuzziness fading as that realization washed over me like ice water.

“Every year my label does thisbigChristmas party. They pick an artist, and that artist hosts.” Robin sighed, the moviecontinuing to play as he pressed his lips into a flat line. “It’s supposed to be this prestigious thing? You know, to beselected.”

“Right,” I agreed, my heart still thumping erratically.

“This is the last year my contract is active before I have to renew it. So I should be happy they asked me to host?” Robin sighed. “But it feelsweird…that all these people are going to be at my house.Strangers. And I know that it’s supposed to be this super cool,wonderfulthing and yet…they’ve made it clear that I don’t even get to fucking sing what I want to.”

“What if you did it anyway?” I asked, because even though I was still trying to process this new information, I wanted to be here for him.

“Did what?”

“Sang Christmas music.”

Robin blinked, like that thought had genuinely never occurred to him. Then a slow smile broke across his lips—only to fall more quickly than it had arisen. “I dunno,” he hummed, looking pleased but conflicted. “Could get me blacklisted. Make it so that they don’t want to renew my contract. Would be career suicide.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” I wished I could take the words back the second they came out. Robin flinched, like he’d been struck. So I had no choice but to explain myself. “I mean…maybe there are other labels out there? That would allow you to have the freedom to do what you want.”

Robin nodded, like this thought had genuinely never occurred to him before. “Ihavebuilt a name for myself…” he agreed, pensive.

“You have,” I reached out to stroke his hair out of his face. “Maybe…putting your foot down wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

“Would people even…want that?” Robin asked, voice wobbly. “I mean. I’m like…a one-trick pony. Except the pony does the same trick over and over—instead of just the one time.”

He was so fucking cute I wanted to bite him.

So I did, sinking my teeth into his shoulder and enjoying his little cackle in reply. “Don’t bite me, motherfucker,” Robin snorted, shoving my head back. His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Then don’t say mean things,” I replied.

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