Page 107 of Filthy Rich Santas

And the expression in them makes my heart flutter.

“My pleasure.” He pauses for a moment, then adds, “You really scared us today.”

I laugh softly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I scared myself too. And poor Beckett.”

“You weren’t wrong for laying into him like that.”

“No, I wasn’t,” I agree. “But I still could have been a little more understanding.”

“Hmm.”

I splash him a little. “Hmm? What does that mean?”

He grins, then goes back to the slow, sensual head massage. “It means I’m glad you and Beck patched things up earlier.”

I think back to the tenderness in Beckett’s eyes as he wrapped the scarf around me.

“Me too,” I admit softly, feeling like something has shifted between us that I have no words for.

Tristan is quiet for a moment. Then, almost like he can read my mind, he says, “You know, Beckett’s always been a bit emotionally closed off. It’s not just you.”

I can tell he’s hesitant to talk about his friend, but I can’t help my curiosity.

“Why is he like that? Do you think it’s because of the way his family life was?”

“Yeah.” Tristan’s exhale has a world of compassion in it. “Shit got so fucked up with his dad while we were all growing up. What you heard earlier was just the tip of the iceberg, and I know he didn’t even share all of it with us. But it definitely shut him down. I think… I think it’s his way of just making sure he doesn’t get hurt again.”

“That makes sense.”

And it also makes my heart hurt for him.

Tristan nods. “I’m pretty sure it’s why he doesn’t want to have kids. I mean, who would, when their only example of a parent-child relationship is completely shitty, right? I know I’d appreciate having Grandma Meg no matter what, but in contrast to that…”

He shakes his head, and I twist around to face him, cupping his jaw.

“I’m glad you had her. You deserved someone to love you like that.”

He stares at me hard for a second, then leans in and presses a sweet, simple kiss to my mouth before turning me back around so he can get back to my hair.

“Thank you. I wish everyone had that.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, my throat a little tight.

Tristan chuckles. “You know, Ryder would give me a ton of shit for psychoanalyzing them like this—fuck, they both would—but I think he avoids serious relationships for the same reason.”

“Really?” I ask.

Tristan’s probably right that the guys wouldn’t be thrilled to hear how clearly he sees through them, but I’m greedy for all of it.

“Mmm.” He hums in confirmation. “You heard what he said the other night. His parents basically abandoned him, and other than us—me, Beckett, and Caleb—he just doesn’t let anyone in.”

My heart clenches, but I nod.

I get it. I do.

“Because if he did, they might leave him too.”

“Pretty sure that’s what he thinks, yeah,” Tristan agrees. “Or maybe not even consciously, you know? But getting close to someone probably feels like risking being abandoned all over again.”

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