Page 48 of Filthy Rich Santas

There isn’t anything to question here. I know that when it comes to crossing lines with Lana, there’s no way in hell I can ever let myself go there.

Not with her.

We’d never work.

Outside of kink, she wants things I just don’t.

Kids. Family. The kind of relationship I’m just not fucking built for.

And none of this is news to me. The raw truth is that her hot-as-fuck story this morning didn’t spark somethingnewfor me, it just unlocked the door to the craving I’ve already got for her, and it’s taking all I have to slam that fucking door shut again.

But I have to.

I can’t touch her. Can’t ever let myself have her, even if I find myself in Tristan’s shoes one day.

Because if I do?

I know myself too damn well, and one taste would never be enough with Lana. If I ever did cross that line, I’d never be able to get on the right side of it again.

And if I ever completely fucked up and actuallyfellfor her, even knowing all the reasons it’s a bad idea, there’s no fucking way I’d ever be able to let her go.

12

LANA

I geta little lost in my thoughts once we’re on the road again. I’m not sure what came over me with Beckett, but it felt good to just open up like that. It felt like maybe I really am becoming the bolder, more authentic version of me.

But if I’m really honest, that’s not the only reason I can’t stop thinking about the conversation we had at the diner. I don’t quite know what was going through his head, but there was something in his expression that made my heart beat a little harder.

I don’t think I was intentionally taunting him, talking so freely about my sex life like that. But I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t recognize that choosing that particular subject created something electrical between us.

Unless I’m fooling myself.

I don’t really know where things stand between all of us right now. We’re not even halfway across the country, and already, so much has happened that I didn’t expect.

I bite my lip, my breath hitching a little as a few of thoseunexpectedmoments replay in my head, but when my eyes dart toward Tristan in the front passenger seat, Ryder catches my gaze instead.

“All good, love?” he asks, throwing his arm over the seat behind me and grinning at me in a way that makes me feel things, especially given where my thoughts just were.

“Yup,” I answer, pulling out my sketchbook. “I just need to…”

I trail off, letting some of my flustered thoughts take shape on the paper. It’s just doodling, but it settles my mind. I’m not even sure how long I’ve been sketching when I realize Ryder is still watching me.

I look up, feeling a little flustered when I see his expression.

“They have the best hot chocolate there, don’t they?” When I don’t answer right away, he taps the page. “That’s Caldwell’s, right? On Fourth? Back home?”

I glance back down, and he’s right. I was just letting my hand run away with me. Drawing the same snow that’s started falling outside our windows. Adding in some holiday decorations because of course. And when I added in the three of them, the rest of the scene just sort of took shape all around… and itisCaldwell’s. One of the nicer restaurants in our hometown, but one that was always warm and inviting around Christmas, not pretentious like most of the places where my family preferred to dine.

I shrug, blushing for some reason. “I didn’t really think about it. It’s just doodles.”

Ryder scoffs, pushing my hand to the side when I reflexively cover the page. “Are you kidding? You got Beckett’s scowl down perfectly! It’s really good.”

I shake my head. “Just something to occupy my hands.”

He pins me with a look that’s almost serious for him. “It’s a lot more than that. You’ve been drawing as long as I’ve known you, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen your work. Why didn’t you ever do more with it?”

I laugh. “With what, this? Iamactually an adult now,” I tease him. “I think I’ve been a little busy with real life things like a job and all.”

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