Page 14 of Texting My Secret Santa

“Is it?” Asher mutters, with his back turned.

Dan attempts to be positive for his friend. “I know you had your ups and downs. That’s probably putting it mildly, but it’s never too late to reconnect. You said she’s been doing much better.”

“It was easier to be proud before I had to see her. It brings up a bunch of crap. Then it makes me feel like a whiny little kid for even caring. I’m a grown-ass man, and the idea of decorating a tree …”

He stops, turns, and takes a big bite of his sandwich. I think he’s embarrassed for oversharing. Join the club.

Again, no look at me, not even a glance. It’s like he’d rather do anything but lay eyes on me. That’s where my inappropriate touching has gotten us.

“I think it’ll be good for you both,” Dan says. “If you need backup, you could always ask the tree-decorator extraordinaire to help.” Dan winks innocently at me. “Holly will take any chance to decorate a tree she can get, and she’s good at talking people’s heads off when things get awkward.”

I try not to show how panicked this makes me. Dan doesn’t know what he’s doing. From his perspective, he’s making a kind offer to a friend. He knows I try to be helpful wherever I can.

If this were anybody except Asher, I’d leap at the opportunity to do a good deed, especially this time of year.

“I’m sure Asher doesn’t want me third-wheeling with his mom,” I blurt out.

“She doesn’t want to help, Dan,” Asher says.

I glare at him, looking dashing in his tight-fitting shirt. He’s so stubbornly tempting. “I didn’t say that.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it on my own,” he mutters.

He doesn’t look sure about that.

“I love decorating trees. I-I just don’t want to impose,” I stutter.

“I’m debating canceling, anyway.”

“What? Why?” I say abruptly.

Asher sighs. “We don’t have to get into his.”

“We don’t have tonotget into it, either,” Dan says. “You’re in safe hands here.”

That isn’t exactly true. There’s nothing safe about Asher and me spending one more minute together than is strictly necessary. Safe hands? Nope, not mine. I want to put my hands on him in ways that would put me on the naughty list.

“It’s like she thinks we can rewind time like this isA Christmas Carol. She’s the Ghost of Christmas past, going over all her mistakes. Now, she wants to make amends. Real life doesn’twork like that. She had her chance when I was a kid. I’ve moved on. I don’t even think about my childhood anymore. It’s all she seems to think about.”

“Naturally, she wants to make up for her mistakes,” I say.

It’s not my place to comfort him, but how can I not? He claims not to care, but his tone says the opposite.

“I understand that, but I don’t see the use of opening that can of worms.”

“You can just go there and decorate the tree,” Dan says encouragingly, giving me a look.

He wants me to help his best friend through this. Understanding eludes him. He’s pushing me closer to a man I need to do everything in my power to stay away from.

“I really don’t mind coming with you,” I say, “if it’ll help. I met your mom a few times, remember? I was the tagalong sister Dan couldn’t wait to get rid of.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You were never the tagalong sister. I was too chivalrous, generous, and kind for that.”

“Don’t forget ‘humble,’” Asher says with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’m the humblest man alive.”

We all laugh. Asher finally looks at me. I almost suck in a breath. Texting my Secret Santa made me feel … something. When Asher looks at me, I feel everything. That’s the difference.

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