Page 26 of Texting My Secret Santa

“Stop.”

He takes a step back, shuddering. Suddenly, his expression fills with panic.

“Holly—”

“I know.”

“I didn’t plan on doing that.”

“I know,” I whisper, wiping my mouth, wanting to kiss him again but understanding I can’t—ever. “This never happened, Asher.”

“I …” He reaches for my hand but stops halfway. “You’re right. This never happened.” It sounds like it’s difficult for him to push these words out. “Snowflake …”

“No moreSnowflake. No more confusion. This never happened, and that’s that.”

I leave the office, my heart threatening to break out of my chest. When I return to my desk, it all feels like a dream. Years ago, Iimagined kissing Asher. Then he returned, but I never imagined it would feel so perfect.

That evening, Asher eats at a restaurant. I think he’s avoiding the apartment. I get it.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss all day. He grabbed me like he owned me and wanted to unwrap me like a gift, spending the entire day obsessing over me. When he stepped back, I knew he wanted to do it again. He was struggling to maintain some semblance of control.

My phone buzzes. No, not mine. The Secret Santa one.

Surely, this proves that it’s not Asher. He wouldn’t be texting me after what happened if it were him. I thought he was going to stop me from leaving his office, grab me, and kiss me again. I told him I didn’t want him to, but I wouldn’t have been mad if he had. That’s pretty messed up.

My Secret Santa:Are you going quiet on me?

Me:I’ve already told you I need to know what you want for a gift,I reply.

I can’t flirt with my Secret Santa anymore. Well, I’m not sure I was ever flirting with him. I don’t want to flirt with anybody who isn’t Asher, so I’m destined to become a spinster and never find a man.

I don’t want anybody else if I can’t have my brother’s best friend.

My Secret Santa:You seem different.

Me:How could you possibly tell that through a text?I hammer the touchscreen keyboard so hard; it’s a miracle I don’t shatter it.

My Secret Santa:Texting can reveal more than a person might think, both in what they say and what they don’t. You usually seem filled with Christmas cheer.

Me:Perhaps I’m tired of faking it until I make it. Maybe I don’t want to be the human equivalent of a greeting card anymore. Sometimes, life gets complicated, and I don’t feel like performing for you, myself, or anybody.

I study the text, then delete it. Whoever this is, they don’t need me lumbering them with all my baggage.

My Secret Santa:You can get me a T-shirt,he texts.

Me:I thought that was a joke.

My Secret Santa:It doesn’t need to have a Christmas logo or slogan on it. We don’t need to text anymore, either.

Me:Are you pouting as you type this?

My Secret Santa:I don’t want to bother you if you don’t want to be bothered.

Me:Again, Secret Santa, I’m not sure how you know that—unless heisAsher.

CHAPTER 10

ASHER

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