Page 45 of Texting My Secret Santa

Dan makes a face. “What sort of double date would it be if I said a thing like that? Just be polite. You don’t have todoanything. Please, bro? For me? I know it’s a big ask.”

It might not have been before I touched, kissed, and lost my mind over his kid sister, but I owe him.

“I’ll do it,” I tell him, “but don’t expect me suddenly to become some Romeo.”

“Romeo and Santa would be too much, eh?” he jokes. “Holly told me about the toy drive. I think it’s great and great that she’s helping, too. Maybe Holly will meet someone.”

“What?” I snap. “At the toy drive?”

Dan looks at me oddly. “She could. Who knows? It’d be nice if she found somebody. She’s so focused on her career all the time.”

“Maybe she likes it that way.”

I seriously need to stop.

“Or maybe she’s been telling herself she’s better off alone for so long. She’s believing it,” Dan says. “I often encourage her to date. She can do both. Career and romance.”

I swallow about a thousand replies, keeping quiet before I dig myself a hole I can’t get out of.

“Anyway,” Dan goes on. “I’ll get you the details about that date.”

“Sounds good.”

That’s a lie. It’s the opposite. The idea of going on a date with anybody who isn’t called Holly Harper is gross.

Back in the office, I stare at my computer screen, deciding I won’t even open my top drawer. I won’t text my Secret Santa if I can maintain that discipline.

Thenmyphone vibrates, showing Holly’s name. She’s sent me a video.

I click play, smiling when I see her walking through a costume store on the selfie camera.

“Okay, Asher, so these are the choices.” She flips the camera, showing two elf costumes. One has green stockings and a dress with frilly material around the hem, which would draw attention to her thick, perfect legs. The other is more conservative. She flips the camera back. “I’m thinking I should probably go with the second one. I don’t want to give people the wrong idea. What do you think?”

I grin, typing a message.

Me:I think you sent me this video just to put the image of you wearing the first one in my head, Snowflake.

It feels strange texting her and being able to call her “Snowflake” without giving the game away. There’s no game when we’re being ourselves, just shame and disloyalty.

Holly:Hey, be good. I want your honest opinion.

Me:My honest opinion is to buy both. Wear the boring one later for the toy drive. Keep the other one, just in case …

I can’t help myself. I’ve just looked her brother in the eye and agreed to help him and go on adouble date, but I still can’t stop.

Holly:You need to behave.

Me:I know,I reply.Forget I said that.

Holly:I can’t forget anything about us. I try, Asher. I really do. I’m doing my best, but it’s like trying to ski uphill.

Me:I know the feeling, but we can be better. Later, at the toy drive, we’ll do what you said. We’ll pretend. We’ll be Asher, grumpy Scrooge, Dan’s best friend, and Holly, a girl obsessed with Christmas who would never think about letting her brother’s buddy kiss her, touch her, and obsess over her. Deal?

Holly:Obsess—is it bad that I like the sound of that?

I grin.

Me:Deal, Snowflake?

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