Page 30 of Texting My Secret Santa

“I don’t care what theysee,” he snaps. “I care about the truth.”

“I’m sorry.”

I squeeze his arm. I have no right to come at him like this after what happened between Asher and me yesterday. I still taste Asher on my lips and remember how good it felt when he held me. I can remember how badly I wanted to keep kissing him.

“Easy there,” he says, laughing. “It’s notthatserious. Are you okay, Holly? You don’t seem your usual bubbly self.”

“I’m fine. Just a lot of work. Do you want a drink or something?”

He doesn’t believe me, but he drops it. “I can’t stay long. I came by to ask if you want to come to a certain rock-climbing center tomorrow.”

I smile. “How do you know about that?”

“Asher said you were excited about it. He was obviously right on the money. So, do you? You know how it’ll go if you leave it to Asher and me. We’ll get competitive and make the whole thing into some measuring contest.”

I laugh. “You are aware I’ve heard the word ‘dick’ before, right?”

Sometimes, it’s like he forgets I’m twenty-three, forgets I’m not the dorky kid following him and his bestie around.

“Fair enough,” he says. “So, what do you think?”

“And Asher’s going?” I confirm with a mixture of dread and excitement.

“I invited him. Well, he invited me, sort of. This was his idea. He said you’d mentioned it on the drive back from his mom’s house. Why? Is that a problem? Too much like old times?”

It has nothing to do with old times. It has everything to do with the fact that, ever since our kiss, I’ve wanted to do it again every single moment. “No, it’s fine.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Find an excuse, Holly. It’s now or never, but we’ll be on our best behavior if Dan’s there. Plus, it’s sweet that Asher remembered me mentioning it.

“Yeah,” I say. “That sounds nice.”

“As nice as Santa’s list?” he grins, playfully nudging me.

“Talk about cheesy …”

“Since you’ve forgotten how Christmas-obsessed you usually are, I’ve got to take over, huh?”

He leaves in a good mood. I return to my desk, my head swimming, running through a scenario where I tell him the truth about what happened.

“Dan, I kissed Asher. Or he kissed me. It’s complicated. When he held me, it was the most pleasure I’ve ever felt. He got super protective of me, which turned me on big-time. I also can’t stop thinking about him shirtless, steam rising from his muscular body. Oh, and I had a crush on him when we were kids. Is that cool?”

Yeah, right? I’d have a better chance of making a real-life sleigh and raising magical reindeer.

Soon, my resolve snaps. I check my phones. My personal cell has a few notifications from my friends. I text them back, but I’m itching to check the Secret Santa phone the whole time.

My Grinch has sent me another text.

My Secret Santa:Any update on the pervert?

Me:Let’s cut the crap, I type.This is Asher, right? Call me crazy, but you said two phrases directly from this text thread. Also, you have an obsession with giving me nicknames, just like Asher does—just like YOU do.

I study the message, not pressing send. What am I trying to achieve?

If this is Asher, challenging him won’t accomplish anything. Let’s imagine that he admits it’s him. Then what? It means, on top of kissing him, I’ve been flirting with him via text message.

But what if it isn’t him? What if I’m texting somebody else? My Secret Santa would only ever be able to be my friend in that case.

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