Page 73 of The Hang Up

“And then Joshua would lean in and whisper in Brock’s ear, ‘Beauty is only skin deep. But ah! me; freckles go to the bone.’”

Brock let out a strangled sound and tried to push me away. I held on, laughing. “Seriously?” he said, smacking me on the chest, this time harder. “Quoting Mark Twain?”

“Eighteen-year-old Brock loves Mark Twain.”

“Twenty-five-year-old Brock doesn’t think you’re taking this seriously.”

“I’m trying,” I said, and then in a more serious voice. “Give me time.”

He pulled me back in his arms. “I guess if you won’t corrupt my innocence, I’ll have to corrupt yours.”

I leaned back to look into his eyes. “Is there something you haven’t shown me?”

“There are things we haven’t tried. Maybe we should negotiate.”

And so we did. We negotiated all night long.

CHAPTER18

A YEAR LATER

Brock

The murmurof voices and the clinking of silverware supplied the usual backdrop for my life. Soft music in the background. The scent of spices teased the senses. It was familiar and, at times, stress-inducing as I worried if I’d get my part right. If my filo pastry would turn out the way Chef Vincent wanted it.

Joshua touched the back of my neck. Reassuring me with his touch. He was mine. That smile—the one that sparked happiness—was just for me. I touched his face, so dear to me, the stubble of his short beard reminding me I was here, and this was real. I leaned in and kissed him.

“What was that for?” he asked with a grin.

I shrug. “Because I can.”

“Sweetheart, you absolutely can.”

“Okay. Enough making out. You’re upsetting the customers.”

“You’re not on the floor tonight,” I said to Nevaeh. “Shouldn’t you be cooking something?”

“And miss this? No way.”

Thiswas a celebration. The last year had been a whirlwind. I’d finished school. Nevaeh and I had been offered positions at Shultie’s. But we were still on probation. I hoped to prove to Vincent that I could be their next pastry chef when our current chef left six months from now. Sean and I were good. Mostly. Things cropped up now and then, but having Ben to distract Sean helped. And maybe the fact that Joshua and I were happy. Disgustingly so, according to some.

“I wanted to be here for you, eating with you, but one of us had to work,” she said. “Now, before you start making out again with your hot Daddy, what would you like to drink?” She went down the table, taking orders. Sean and Ben. Mitch and Todd. Matthew and Roan. “I’ll bring those out right away. You all look like you need a little cooling off.”

We were celebrating several things. Joshua’s nonprofit had gotten the attention it needed thanks to Blake Hudson and the gala. Cassean had mentoring programs at the local hospitals in Missouri and Illinois and was hoping to add Iowa to the list. There were a few procedural things standing in the way. If he’d had Catholic or Christian in front of his charity name, it might have gone smoother. The world had been shocked to find out billionaire Joshua Miller was bisexual and dating a man.

But the main thing to celebrate and the reason Roan and Matthew were here was Sean being promoted to supervisor.

“They’ll promote anyone at Coxx Communications,” I said, sipping my wine.

“Apparently not.” Matthew was fiddling with his napkin but looked up when he realized everyone was staring at him.

“Babe, you said that aloud.” Roan gave him a soft look and kissed his cheek. Matthew and Roan had officially announced they were dating. Not that anyone was surprised. But there was also tension there. Matthew not getting the promotion he wanted was only one of the factors.

“He’s not just anyone. Sean worked hard—”

“Stop, babe,” Sean said, touching Ben’s wrist. “Brock was teasing.”

“Oh. Right.”

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