Page 43 of Christmas Wishes

“I don’t know. How about we sleep on it—well, toss and turn on it—then touch base in the morning? What time’s your flight?”

“Two. You?”

“Four. So we’ve got time.” Thank god. That released some of the pressure building up in my head.

“I can think of ways to spend the time,” Riggs murmured into my ear.

“Who’s that?”

I giggled at the way his breath tickled the sensitive skin on my neck. “I’ll fill you in later.” I caught Riggs’s eyes and shrugged. I wasn’t going tonottell my best friend about it.

“Okay. Talk to you in the morning.” I could hear a smile in his voice. Good. He might actually get some sleep tonight.

“Try to get some sleep. We’ll figure it out. My parents would love to have us crash with them, I’m sure.” For better or worse. At least we had options. I was grateful for that, but I’d rather keep sleeping in Riggs’s bed than on the lumpy full-sized mattress in my parents’ guest room.

Ugh, staying with them meant facing the conversation I’d been dreading earlier than I needed to. I’d already planned to tell Steph about losing my job on Christmas Eve. The rest of the family would know in an hour, and then it would be old news in two hours. There would be some pointed questions and jokes on Christmas Day, but the chaos of the full family would keep me from being in the spotlight, as it usually did. Once in a while, that worked to my benefit.

But if I had to crash with my parents, I’d have to tell them why I wasn’t going to work each day. Explaining to them that I was jobless and hoping to become an influencer made me itchy. Trying to explain being an influencer as a job to a boomer was like teaching calculus to an infant.

“‘Night,” he said.

“Night.” I tapped to disconnect the call. “Well.”

“Glad he’s okay.”

My heart jumped into my throat at that simple statement. I’d never gotten very far in any relationships, and several of the ones that seemed like they had the promise of heading that way crashed and burned when they made comments about my friendship with Arlo or dared to even so much as hint that he was a burden. He wasn’t anything of the fucking sort.

But Riggs expressing concern for my best friend? If I didn’t have a boner before, I did now.

* * *

RIGGS

Ask him to stay. Tell him there’s room. Convince him with a killer blowjob.

Keep your mouth shut so you don’t get more attached.

“Well, I thought losing my job after Thanksgiving would be my rock bottom for the holidays. Losing my apartment too? This fucking sucks.” Keaton dropped his head onto my shoulder.

“It does.”

He turned his head to stare up at me. “You’re not going to give me the bright side?”

“Why? It sucks. Nothing I say is going to take that away.” For half a second, I worried I’d misstepped, but then I remembered I was me and always would be. No sugarcoating.

“That’s oddly reassuring. Thank you.”

“Going to stay with your parents then?”Offer him the room.I didn’t have any other bookings until after the holidays anyway.

“I guess. High school all over again. I can handle a couple of days, but not sure about this.” He let out a tired sigh.

“Do you have to?”

“Not sure what my other options are.” His voice turned borderline pouty. It was way too cute.

“Stay.” The word floated into the space between us, expanding, sucking the air from the room.

“Here?” His voice was oddly calm. I’d expected a horrified shriek.

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