Page 53 of Snowbound with the Santas

I send him a sharp glance. “Well, I teach second grade. Have done for a couple of years. I had to work my ass off to get enough time off for this dumb family holiday. My best friend, Nina, is the sweetest person in the world and constantly mocks me for having no time for a life, but I really like working with the kids. I guess it’s my way of giving back.”

“Giving back?” Frankie looks me up and down. “You’re what, twenty-five, your license said? You haven’t done enough to earn giving back.”

“Twenty-six,” I correct him. “And… y’know. My family is rich. I come from money and they constantly brag about it. It’s a cliché, I suppose, but I like being able to help people, and the kids I teach are amazing.”

It hits me then, with a rush of acid in my gut, that if they knew the truth about me, then they likely wouldn’t accept my attempts to make amends in the world.

Some things are unforgivable.

“A satisfactory answer,” Nick decides.

“Excellent. Alright… you.” I fix Archer with a stare, and there’s a daring look in his eye.

“Me.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“How did you get the scar on your back?”

There’s a moment of silence, and I fear I may have asked the wrong question, but to my surprise, Archer answers easily.

“An explosion in Afghanistan. I was under orders with my team to clear a set of empty buildings so the forward line could advance safely. The intel was bullshit and the building was not empty.”

My heart starts to race.

“The building went up in flames then came down on my team. I was pulled out. My team wasn’t.” Archer looks over to Frankie. “We lost good men that day.”

“Your brother?” I ask Frankie softly.

He nods and flashes me a smile. “The suit who led them into that got away with a slap on the wrist because those with the money can survive shit like that. But, the silver lining is I gained a friend in Archer.”

“Sap,” Archer grumbles.

The story was somehow as bad as I expected and yet also worse, and there’s a sad air between us as I process. They allhave pain in their pasts. That much is clear. The only difference is that they appear to have suffered and worked hard to correct it.

Me? Icausedthe suffering. The more I mull it over, the more I fear that the wrong question could reveal the wrong thing about myself. The moment they get an inkling that I’m a terrible person is the moment my happy bubble here will burst. I wanted to know more about them, but there’s only so much I’m willing to share in turn.

“Okay,” Archer says, locking eyes with me. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” I say, forcing a smile. What better way to avoid the truth than to use an aspect of my own game?

“Dare, huh?” Archer licks his lower lip.

“Coward,” Frankie teases.

Nick leans back, glancing between me and Archer until Archer finally talks.

“Fine. I dare you to masturbate right here, in front of us. We’ve all had a chance to please you. Now, let’s see how you please yourself.”

“Are you serious?” Frankie’s eyes widen, then he looks right at me. I can see the question in their eyes, the hope of me saying yes while mingling with understanding if I say no.

“Alright.” I shrug one shoulder, happy for the distraction and rather excited to put on a show. It’s hypocritical, I know, to ask more about them without being willing to share in turn, but as I settle back on the pillows, I decide I don’t care.

I feel safe here, and while the storm rages outside and keeps us locked in this cozy cabin, then I’ll happily let this dream continue.

They watch me closely as I rest against the pillows and slide my hand down my pants. They didn’t ask to see, so I keep my clothes on as part of the game, but as soon as I slide my fingers through myself, I arch upward with a soft moan.

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