Page 32 of A Very Addicted Christmas

I definitely got chewed out from her dadbeforethat happened.

I definitely could see myself in boiling water again with him. Hopefully not for sleeping with his daughter. Hopefully I won’t ever put her in a bad position with her father—but it’s hard not to look at Luna and be mesmerized.

I like hearing what she has to say. I like seeing her be herself without second-guessing. I like too much ofthisinteraction, and I don’t see why I have to stop.

Her dad.

But he’s not here.

Luna flings her hands up into the air and waggles them as “Call Me” by Blondie starts playing. I join her and we stalk one another with a foot-jive dance pattern that takes hold, and I’mgrinning over at Luna who smiles back like we’re in some sort of race together.

Comms crackle in my ear, but I’m not paying much attention at first. She catches my wrist, and she tries to slip between my legs. But I spin her in a circle. “Call me!” she shouts.

“Call me anytime,” I sing off-key, our eyes latching.

She naturally whirls around, her back sliding against my chest and ass up against my pelvis. Blood runs hot through my veins, and I hold her hips while we shift together to the beat. Sweat is building against my skin. She bumps against my dick, more forceful than sensual, and I thrust against her ass all the same. We’re laughing between singing.

Even though heat ramps inside me the longer our bodies slip and grope, there’s something emotional about touching Luna that supersedes the sexual—I don’t understand it. But I’m not trying to.

I hear Oscar in my ear. “I’m trying to save all the adult diapers for Donnelly.”

No idea what that’s about, but with one hand, I click my mic and laugh over comms. “Appreciation and all that.”

Songs keep changing.

We keep dancing, getting sloppier with our movements and tripping over one another even though she’s sober—I’m sober. Sweat glistens on her cheeks, and adrenaline is igniting my soul. As “Baba O’Riley” by the Who plays, we both sing the lyrics at the top of our lungs.

“‘I get my back into my living,’” I sing and lift her up in a front piggyback. Cupping her ass with my hands, Luna holds onto my shoulders, and the music explodes in the pub—so we sing louder, our eyes locked in the moment. She’s bouncing on my dick.

My pulse thrums against the beat, against the feeling of my hands lifting her whole body, against the way her amber eyesattach to mine, and our grins burst within the lyrics and within her movements, up and down.

I shift to the beat and help her bounce on me.

Life.

It should be about moments like this. Not the things I’ve left behind but the things that open up my lungs and make me breathe. I’ve always thought it. Always think it.

I can’t count the minutes this lasts. It could veer into an hour, and I wouldn’t know. Time seems irrelevant when you’re inside something beautiful.

But I try not to hate when it ends. It’s no good hating things when it feels a thousand times better loving. When I lower her feet to the ground and her smile softens with mine, she balls the sleeves of her knitted sweater into her fists.

Her eyes are still on me. “You might be Earth’s greatest dance partner.”

“Just Earth’s?” I smirk, but our attention veers as the music deadens and the television begins playing. Everyone hushes to watch a trailer for the newest season ofWe Are Calloway.Honestly, I tune out a lot of it since it’s mostly footage of the car crash, and I’m not looking to revisit one of the worst nights I’ve had since being a bodyguard.

Luna is checking her cellphone instead of staring at the TV.

Once it ends, Farrow cuts the tension. “You could’ve made that a little happier, Jack.” He teases the exec producer.

“Yeah.” Akara smiles. “Way to go, Jack.”

“What were you thinkin’, Jack,” I pipe in from across the pub.

“Dammit, Jack,” Quinn sighs.

“Yeah, fuck you, Highland,” Oscar says playfully.

Jack is smiling brightly, and after a brief conversation about security and paperwork with the docuseries, we’re all moseying our way outside. Luna heads out with Sulli, and I’m hoping to get outside before O’Malley decides to attach himself to me

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