Page 41 of Texting My Secret Santa

He arches his eyebrow at me. “I thought this was none of your business?”

“We can pretend this conversation never happened, too.”

He laughs dryly. “We can’t pretend, Snowflake. You know that. I know that.”

“We have to … for Dan.”

Mentioning my brother’s name causes a scowl to touch his lips. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the betrayal. Neither do I, but we have to remember.

“She accused me of being cold and distant. She said she’d found the ring and asked if I was proposing because I loved her or thought it was the ‘right thing.’ I’d never told her I loved her. I couldn’t do it then. She was heartbroken, trashed my room, tore down the Christmas tree. I couldn’t blame her for any of it. I hate Christmas. I always have, but it’s not because of Mia. It’s because of everything else.”

By “everything else,” I know he’s talking about his childhood.

“See?” he says. “You’ve got nothing to be jealous of.”

“I never said I was jealous,” I whisper.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Okay, let’s imagine I am jealous,” I say. “Let’s go there. Let’s explore the issue. Why are you smiling, Asher?”

“When you get passionate about a project, you get so animated. It’s endearing and cute as hell. I won’t lie. It was the same thing when you were recording at the climbing center. You get electrified.”

I laugh. “Electrified?”

“My Snowflake becomes a giant Christmas tree.”

“How can you be so depressing and so silly at the same time?”

“You bring it out in me.”

“I’m serious. Let’s imagine I am.”

He chuckles. “Yeah …imagine.”

“What good could it do, huh? We both have to accept that nothing can ever happen. Nothing else, anyway. We’ve gone far enough. Dan loves me. He loves you, but he’d never love ‘us.’”

“You’re right,” Asher concedes. “We have to be stronger. Don’t pout. I agree with you.”

“I’m not pouting,” I lie.

It’s not the answer I wanted to hear, even if it’s the one I needed. There’s no future with my brother’s best friend.

His cell phone rings. “Would you answer that for me, Snowflake?”

I reach into his pocket, shocked at how the heat of his body affects me. I’m going toasty marshmallow again.

“It’s your mom.”

He sighs. “You can let it ring. I’ll call her back.”

“Asher, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“It’s draining.”

“It might be important.”

“Damn it. Fine. Answer. Put it on speaker.”

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