Page 28 of My Secret Santa Daddies

She turns, her eyes widening slightly when she sees me, and I can tell from the way her smile falters that this is the last thing she wants. But it’s too late now. I’m already here, standing in front of her.

“Hey, Griffin…”

“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me all night?”

The words are out before I can stop them, and I curse myself. It’s one thing to think about it, but another to say it out loud. Especially when half of Silver Ridge is within earshot.

Sierra glances around, her cheeks flushing. “Griffin, not here, okay?”

“No,” I say, swaying on my feet slightly, still unsteady from the beer. “I want to know why you won’t even look at me.”

“Jesus, Griffin.”

“What? It’s true. You won’t even?—”

“Griffin.”

Her eyebrows shoot upward, and she takes a step back, her hand brushing self-consciously against her hair. “Griffin, you’re drunk.”

“Maybe I am,” I slur. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t so much as looked my way since we got here.”

"That's not what this is about, Griffin. You know why things are the way they are between us."

"But it's been years, Sierra. Years. Can't we just?—"

"Can't we just what, Griffin?" Her voice is sharp now, cutting through the fog that's settled over my thoughts. “How was I supposed to approach you tonight?” She continues, her voice low and deadly quiet. “Hey, Griffin, so glad you finally decided to show up! Ready to pick up right where we left off?"

"That’s better than nothing!”

"I don't want to hear it, Griffin. Not tonight. Not when you've been drinking and... Just leave me alone, okay?"

She brushes past me, leaving a trail of her perfume in her wake—vanilla and memories—and I wish I could apologize.

Wyatt’s hand slams down heavily on my shoulder.

“Come on, dude. Let’s get you home. I think Jack’s ready for bed.”

I shrug him off, but he only tightens his grip. “No, seriously, man. Time to call it a night.”

He’s right, of course. I’m past tipsy and teetering on wasted, and I know I should probably just leave with him.

“Fine,” I grumble, letting him drag me away from the party and into the cold night air.

9

SIERRA

Last night was a disaster.

I slump back against the couch, staring at the twinkling lights of my half-decorated Christmas tree.

My gaze shifts to the folded card, reading Griffin’s penned name. I let out a long, slow breath, trying to shake the memory of his slurred words, and the way his eyes had locked onto mine, so unsteady, so raw. I shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t matter after all these years. But, of course, it does. It always has.

Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me all night?

God, why did he have to go there? Right in the middle of Millie’s Diner, with half of Silver Ridge watching, pretending not to notice while they kept their eyes glued to their hot chocolates and Christmas cookies. They all knew we had dated for a brief moment.

I’m sure that’s been the most exciting gossip to spread around town in a long while.

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