Page 158 of Filthy Rich Santas

Not that I can find the words to explain why—to himorto myself.

The silence stretches between us for a moment, then Dustin claps me on the shoulder and thankfully, changes the subject. After a few minutes, though, I start to get antsy.

“I should get back,” I tell him, getting to my feet.

Dustin nods, reaching out to clasp my shoulder. “Take care, man. And remember, sometimes the things that seem impossible are the ones most worth fighting for.”

I grunt in response, not trusting myself to speak. We say our goodbyes, and I head back toward the private room I left Lana and the guys in, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

When I slip back into the room, Tristan and Ryder are already stirring.

“Time to head out?” Ryder asks as Tristan cleans his glasses, then starts putting away the ropes.

I give him a look, an understanding passing between us without words. It’s time to leave the club, yeah. And fuck, we’re also almost to the end of this trip.

The guys get themselves ready, and I move to the bed where Lana’s still sleeping peacefully. For a moment, I just look at her. She looks like a fucking dream, and my chest tightens at how beautiful she is like this.

Not that she isn’t always, but tonight it’s different. We staked a claim here, and temporary or not, it’s gonna leave a mark on me.

She sighs in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering as she reaches for a warm body that’s not next to her anymore.

I capture her hand and hold it in both of mine. “Come on, little menace. Time to wake up.”

Her eyes open, still soft with sleep and a little out of focus. Then I squeeze her hand, and when she focuses on me, she smiles.

“Is it time to go?” she asks, her voice husky.

“Yeah,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. My fingers linger on her cheek for a second longer than necessary, and I’m tempted to kiss her.

But I’m also content with just this—the feel of her silky skin under my fingertips and the warm, trusting look she gives me that has my chest feeling tight again.

I clear my throat, then help her up, all three of us making a silent note of how worn out she still is. I’m not sure if it’s the lupus or how hard we played, but Tristan, Ryder, and I are all in sync about the need to take a little extra care with her.

We help her get dressed, and when she tries to stifle a yawn as we head for the exit, I scoop her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest.

“Beckett!” She laughs, her eyes drowsy as she shakes her head. “You don’t have to carry me.”

Ryder snorts. “I’m pretty sure ‘have to’ isn’t the right word for it, love.”

“I want to,” I admit, holding her gaze as Dustin’s comment about priorities flashes through my mind.

A hint of a blush colors her cheeks, but after a second, she nods. “Well, okay. If you’re sure.”

“Sure? Trust me, little menace, there’s nothing I want more than to have you in my arms right now.”

It’s the most honest I’ve ever been about emotional shit, and when she gives me a sweet, sleepy smile, resting her head on my shoulder and relaxing against me, I can’t even regret it.

36

LANA

The insistent buzzof my phone drags me from the depths of sleep. By the time I’m fully conscious, the ringing has stopped, leaving me in disorienting silence. I blink, taking in the unfamiliar hotel room as memories of the night before, at Eclipse, flood back, making me smile.

At least, until I realize I’m all alone in the bed.

I sit up, running my hands over the sheets. They’re cool, not a trace of body heat left on either side of me, so the guys have been up for a while.

A pang of disappointment hits me, and I silently curse myself—well, the lupus, at least—for robbing me of one last morning sandwiched between warm, muscular bodies. I’m tired of being so much more fatigued than normal.

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