Chapter 28 Christmas in April
TWENTY EIGHT
Christmas in April
April
The couch pit was absurdly comfortable. April walked over and sat at the edge, sinking into cushions that felt like they'd been engineered by someone who took the concept of "plush" personally. The fabric was soft against her palms, the support just firm enough to keep her from feeling swallowed.
The men followed.
Killian reached for the remote on the side table.
"No," Jax said immediately.
"Absolutely not," Caleb added.
Killian picked it up anyway, his mouth curved into a definite grin. "Earnings calls are educational."
April leaned forward and took the remote out of Killian’s hand like she was removing a weapon. “No work,” she said. “Not even pretend work.”
Jax grinned. “She’s issuing operational policy.”
Killian handed over the remote without protest, still grinning.
Jax leaned over Caleb’s shoulder. "Why don't we watch someone save Christmas?"
Silence. Then Mateo’s voice, carefully innocent. "Oh, yes. Let's watch Caleb save Christmas."
"Which time?" Liam asked, deadpan.
"There are multiple Christmas salvation events," Jiro added quietly.
Caleb's face went through several emotions in rapid succession. "You're all terrible."
"We're supportive," Jax corrected, grinning.
Liam plucked the remote from Caleb's hand and navigated to the Heartland channel. "We're in luck. The one where he rescues the town's Christmas pageant from a snowstorm is on right now."
He pressed play.
The screen flickered to life with opening credits and snow-covered small-town aesthetics. And there was Caleb. In a cable-knit sweater, earnest and windswept, visibly invested in whether the children got their pageant.
April had the strange thought that he existed in two places at once, here beside her and up there on that giant screen, saving fictional Christmas.
She opened her mouth to comment on it, but the remote-jostling had created a ripple effect through the couch. She was being gently bobbled toward the center.
Mateo settled beside her properly now, his thigh pressing against hers. His hand found her ankle before the opening credits finished, thumb tracing a slow circle against the bone.
"Comfortable?" he asked, and his voice was warm honey.
"Yes."
On her other side, Liams's fingers found her wrist, settling against her pulse point.
Jiro had positioned himself behind her, and when he shifted forward she found herself leaning back into the solid warmth of his chest. His hand came up to her hair—fingertips against her scalp, dragging slowly through the strands in a way that made her want to close her eyes.
Liam had stretched out nearby, propped on one elbow, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. When she glanced over, he was watching her face.
"Is that your serious face or your 'I'm about to deliver bad news to the town council' face?" Jax called at the screen, where Caleb's character was indeed looking very seriously at something off-camera.
"That's his 'the snowplow broke' face," Caleb corrected from beside April. His hand had found her knee under the blanket that had appeared from somewhere. Arthur, she thought, who'd draped it across her lap with quiet efficiency before settling at the far edge to monitor the situation.
"Riveting," Dante murmured from his position near the back, but his eyes weren't on the screen either.
On screen, Caleb was rallying the townspeople with an inspiring speech about community.
"You really believe in Christmas spirit, don't you?" Mateo said, grinning at actual-Caleb.
"I get paid to believe in Christmas spirit," Caleb replied. His thumb traced a pattern on April's knee that made her very aware of the thin fabric between his hand and her skin.
April tried to focus on the movie. On Caleb's character organizing some kind of emergency sleigh situation.
But Jax had moved closer, his shoulder pressing against Killian's, which meant April was now surrounded on three sides. His hand brushed her arm—casual, testing. When she didn't pull away, his fingers lingered, drawing small circles on her wrist.
"This is the scene where you save the horse," Jiro said.
"The horse was never in danger," Caleb protested.
"The script said it was in danger."
"The horse knew it was acting."
April felt laughter bubble up, but it came out thinner than she intended as Killian's hand to her shoulder, and Mateo's grip on her calf had shifted higher. She memorized the angle of the light on the screen. The weight of Jiro’s hand in her hair.
"Are you even watching?" Liam asked, and it took April a moment to realize he was talking to her.
"Yes," she lied.
His mouth curved. "What just happened on screen?"
"Christmas was... being saved?"
"Very thorough analysis."
Caleb leaned in and kissed her temple, soft and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. "She's got the spirit of it."
Mateo’s thumb tightened briefly at her ankle, as if staking quiet claim.
Then Liam, his lips brushing her knuckles with that same precise care he brought to everything.
Mateo's kiss landed on her shoulder, and she felt the warmth of it through her shirt, followed by the soft press of his lips against the curve of her neck
Jax stole a kiss next, quick and amused, testing boundaries. She laughed against his mouth and he grinned.
Caleb's kiss was slower. His hand cupped her face and she felt the calluses on his palm, the careful way he tilted her chin up to get the angle right.
She let herself lean into it, tilting her head, her fingers curling into Killian's shirt. The blanket slipped halfway to the floor and someone’s knee knocked the remote when someone’s mouth, Mateo’s she thought, found the spot below her ear that made her breath stutter.
Arthur hadn’t moved, but his attention was a physical weight.
Dante’s gaze had gone darker. More intent. He took a deliberate sip of his coffee.
Then Jiro shifted.
His hand came up to her jaw, turning her face toward him with careful intention. His mouth slanted over hers, making everything else fall away. His other hand found the back of her neck, holding her steady, and April heard herself make a sound she didn't recognize.
The screen kept flickering behind him, but she couldn’t have said what was happening on it. His tongue swept against hers and her body pulsed with desire.
The room had gone very quiet. The movie still played in the background, the soundtrack swelling for some dramatic moment April would never remember, but no one was pretending to watch anymore.
Eight men around her, sprawled and watching. With expressions that ranged from Caleb's open heat to Arthur's controlled attention to Dante's dark satisfaction.
Then Jiro thumb traced her jaw and he leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
The world narrowed to just this; his hand steady at her jaw, his forehead warm against hers, his presence settling everything inside her that had been spinning too fast.
"Can you handle all of us?"
Around them, April registered movement. Subtle shifts. Eyes that were ostensibly looking at the screen or at the ceiling or at nothing in particular.
"At once?" she managed.
"At once."
Oh.
Oh.
Her brain tried to map configurations and immediately hit capacity errors. How would that even—where would everyone—
"Probably not?" she said honestly.
Caleb’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Three holes. Two hands. Five positions total."
April looked at him, grateful, and he gave her the smallest nod.
She looked back at Jiro. The answer came out immediate, eager, and several of the men smiled.
"Yes," she said. "Five."
Fuck Wednesday morning. Fuck the part of her brain trying to calculate the emotional hangover. She was taking everything. Being so greedy the universe would have to file a complaint.