Page 59 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

“I’m familiar,” I told him, earning me a cheeky flick of his tongue ring.

“Well, specifically, how we’ve been sneaking around with this…thing we’ve got going on. And I get the feeling it’s bothering you, Rach. You’ve been so…”

“Distant,” Wes finished, smiling sadly. “We don’t want to pressure you, but we feel like you don’t want to keep it hidden anymore.”

My stomach flipped, and I felt Sawyer’s eyes on me, waiting for my response.

“You’re right,” I admitted, glancing between the three of them. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you guys—it’s just that I hate hiding it from Michael. He’s my twin, and I know it’s complicated, but I feel bad lying to him. To the rest of my family too. At the very least, I wanthimto know, and then I can deal with the rest later.”

Roman nodded, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah, I figured. Which is why I think we should tell him. All of us.”

Wes was always the voice of reason. “Michael might murder us,” he warned me.

Sawyer shrugged. “He can try. But at least we’ll go down together.”

Roman’s green eyes flicked to me. “What do you think, Rach? You ready to make it official?”

The weight of his words settled over me, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Part of me was thrilled—they were willing to take that leap, to stop sneaking around and bring our messy, wonderful relationship out into the open. It felt real, like the walls I’d built were finally being torn down.

But then there was the other part of me. The one that knew the secret I was holding back was going to complicate everything even more.

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Roman grinned, pulling me in for a hug, while Wes clapped Sawyer on the back. For a moment, it was like everything was perfect. Like we had found this beautiful, crazy thing together, and we weren’t afraid to fight for it.

But even as I laughed with them, something twisted inside me. The secret of my unplanned pregnancy, the mystery of paternity; it all lingered in the back of my mind. I loved these three men—God, I loved them all so much. But soon, I’d have to tell them the truth. And I wasn’t sure how everything would change when I did.

33

ROMAN

Michael and Violet’s engagement party was everything I’d expect from them: warm, lively, and decked out in the tackiest holiday gear imaginable. Their new apartment, which was also part of the reason for the celebration, looked like Christmas had exploded in it—twinkling lights, garlands, and a ridiculous number of gingerbread-scented candles. It was an Ugly Christmas Sweater party, but half the guests had clearly put more effort into their sweaters than others. Some looked practically fashionable, while the rest of us fully embraced the ugly with no shame.

Yeah,us.I was part of the tacky squad. I adjusted my sweater, which jingled obnoxiously with every move thanks to the little bells hot glued to it. Rachel had helped me make the monstrosity. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking back to the night she came over with bags of craft supplies. The three of us—me, Wes, and Sawyer—sat around like a bunch of kids, trying to figure out how to glue pom-poms and felt snowflakes onto cheap sweatshirts without completely wrecking them. Rachel guided us through it all, laughing so hard when Sawyer’s first attemptturned into a glitter-covered mess, while Wes, as always, tried to make his look designer-worthy.

My sweater was a disaster, but the memory alone made it worth wearing.

As I took another sip of my spiked eggnog, Nakamura wandered over, eyeing the sweaters Wes, Sawyer, and I were all sporting. He smirked, clearly noticing the matching theme. “What’s with the sweaters? You guys start a club or something?”

I couldn’t resist the opening. “Nah, we made ’em at your mom’s house. You know, after we finished taking turns with her.”

Nakamura’s eyes widened, and for a split second, he looked genuinely shocked. Then he groaned, rubbing his face. “You gotta be kidding me. Really, Roman? A ‘your mom’joke? How old are we?”

“Hey, Keiko’s got a great craft room. You should be proud.” I added it deadpan, barely suppressing a grin. Wes and Sawyer chuckled beside me, and Nakamura shot us all a mock glare.

“You idiots are the worst,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Can’t believe I let you assholes on my team.”

“You love us,” Wes chimed in, nudging him with a grin. Nakamura flipped us off but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips as he walked away.

I was still grinning when I glanced across the room, my eyes automatically searching for Rachel. She wasn’t close enough to hear the joke, but I kind of wished she had been. I knew she would’ve rolled her eyes, probably given me that playful shove I always looked forward to. But she was at the threshold to Michael’s new kitchen, standing with a group of Violet’s friends. She looked a little off tonight, more tired than usual, yawning into her hand like she hadn’t slept in days. I suspected some of her low-energy mood was also because we couldn’t be open here, not with Michael around. Not yet. I wanted to go over and ask ifshe was okay, but I held back. We were supposed to be blending in, just friends at a party. Nothing more.

That secret connection between us, though—electric as always—was starting to weigh on me. The small touches when no one else was looking, the stolen glances, the way I wanted to cling to her side the whole damn night. It was thrilling, but I wanted more. I wanted her on my arm, in front of everyone.

“God, Michael and Violet seem so happy,” Wes said, coming up beside me. His eyes were on the newly engaged couple, who were laughing together by the Christmas tree, wrapped up in their own little world.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Poor girl’s stuck with him for life, though. Hope she knows what she’s getting herself into.”

“Endless hockey talk,” Wes quipped with a smirk. “Every game, every stat, every player in the league. She’s got no idea.”

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