Page 62 of My Secret Santa Daddies

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“I guess, I don’t know.”

"Well, I won't say anything if you don't want me to." I gently brush her hair away from her face. "But, Sierra... I can't promise it won't happen again."

Her breath catches in her throat and she looks up at me with parted lips. "I don't know," she mumbles after a minute or so of silence.

"I'm not sure either," I admit, cupping her jaw in my hand and gently tilting her chin up to meet her gaze. "But I know that I can't stop thinking about you. I know you’re in a tough place right now. I’m not going to keep you to myself. I just want you to be happy.”

Sierra's eyes search mine, as if she's looking for something she can't quite find. Then, she nods and leans in for a chaste kiss on my cheek. "I better go. Goodnight, Wyatt.”

“Sweet dreams.”

16

SIERRA

Ilie still for a moment, feeling the warmth of the blankets around me, trying to make sense of the whirlwind that’s become my life.

Wyatt.

Last night, the way had he looked at me, spoken to me—it was more real than anything I’ve felt in a long time.

I still want you.

I close my eyes remembering his words, trying to sort through the mess of emotions; the confusion, the longing, the guilt. Everything feels twisted together.

I sigh, sitting up in bed, rubbing my hands over my face.

I hear the creak of the bedroom door opening. I turn, expecting Cody or maybe even Jack, but it’s not. It’sGriffin.

He stands in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the space, his dark eyes locked on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. His hair is tousled from sleep, his jaw shadowed with morning stubble. There’s a heaviness in his gaze that’s impossible to ignore.

“Griffin,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t move, just stands there, studying me like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Or maybe whatnotto say.

I can’t breathe. I can’tthink.

Finally, he takes a slow step into the room. He sits on the edge of the bed, not directly looking at me.

“There’s power back at your house.” His voice is rough, almost hesitant, like he’s unsure of how I’ll react. “The roads have been cleared enough to drive as well. You can… you can head home now.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I should be relieved—Ishouldwant to leave. But there’s an ache in my chest, an emptiness I can’t shake.

“That’s good.”

“Sierra, I—” He stops, closing his eyes for a second, like he’s trying to find the right words. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “I never wanted it to be like this. You have to know that.”

“Like what?” I ask, knowing full well he’s referring to our night together and the simmering tension between us.

“I mean…” He hesitates, his frustration evident. “I mean the way things ended between us. The way I… handled things back then and now. I was young and stupid, Sierra, and I thought I was doing what was best for everyone, especially Anna.”

His voice cracks at her name, and I feel a stab of guilt at the mention of my best friend—the woman he loved and lost, the one I never got to say goodbye to properly.

“Griffin,” I start, but he cuts me off.

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