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"Damn." She drops a finger.

Joel and Kit do the same.

I look to Joel. "When?"

"Private beach. I couldn't pass up that opportunity." He looks to Kit. "You?"

"Gentlemen don't kiss and tell." Kit sips his OJ, nonchalant.

"Yeah, and what the fuck difference does that make to you?" Joel shakes his head. He looks to Violet. "You buying Kit as a gentleman?"

"More gentle than you are, Joel." Violet laughs.

Joel shakes his head with mock outrage. He turns to Kit. "It's the gentleman's turn."

Kit chuckles. He brushes his mass of curly bangs from his eyes and watches Joel refill his glass. "The King will kill you if you play hungover."

"If I play hungover and shitty. He'll just shake his head at me if I play hungover, miserable, and well." Joel mimes Mal's signature, this is a bad idea head shake and takes a long swig. "But your concern is noted."

"You call Mal The King?" Violet crinkles her nose. "Well, I guess that does sound about right." She turns to Kit. "Out with the questions, Rhythmic One."

He chuckles. He shoots me a watch how much she's drinking look, then he's back to his usual poker face. "Never have I ever insisted my adult friends play a game for teenagers."

Joel keeps his eight fingers up. "You looking at me, what was it you called him, Valentine?"

"Rhythmic One." Her eyes catch mine for a minute, then they're back on Joel's. "Not my finest work."

"This is a perfectly acceptable game for adults," Joel says.

Kit shakes his head. "Let's call a vote."

"We know how I'm voting." Joel says. "And how you're voting, Rhythmic One. What about you, Valentine? Strong?"

"We're adults," Violet says. "And we're playing. That makes it a game for adults."

Same logic she used to explain her shoes. I have to admit, it holds up. And it's pure Violet. God, there's something about her smile. She's still wearing all her makeup. Her lips are still fuck-me red.

Can't get ahead of myself. Any sudden moves and I'll scare her off. I take a sip of my drink but that only makes my cheeks and chest burn. This is shit vodka.

I fight a grimace. "Can't argue with Vi's logic."

"This is a failure of democracy." Kit shakes his head, but he accepts defeat.

Joel claps his hands together. His eyes light up as he pores over possibilities. "Okay, I've got one. Never have I ever received or performed oral sex in a recording studio."

Violet turns red, bright red. "Oh God. I thought the room was soundproof."

"The mic was still on," Kit says.

"They don't make rooms that soundproof." Joel laughs.

She hides behind her hands for a minute, then she looks to me. "Well, I believe I was receiving and you were performing. So you better lose a finger, Ethan." She's still blushing and nervous, but she's smiling too.

It takes a lot of self-control to keep from getting lost in the memory of Violet coming on my face. It was my first time in a real studio, a nice one, and I wanted to celebrate. She was wearing this short black skirt and those same knee-high boots. Fuck, those long legs of hers-

Violet's fingers brush my knee. She looks up at me with an I've got you smile. "Hmm. Never have I ever… had an orgasm in a dressing room."

I drop another finger.

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