Page 10 of Sexted By Santa
I bristled even though it was true. I’d never wanted this role, and now Jaxson of all people was making me feel inadequate.
“Like you weren’t committed to being a college student?” I challenged.
His face tightened. “Low blow, Professor.”
Damn. He was right. But my ego smarted. I didn’t like being criticized, and something about Jaxson unnerved me. I couldn’t seem to say the right thing around him.
I’d recognized him the moment he’d moved in next door to me—surprised he could afford a house in my neighborhood but relieved he’d landed on his feet after leaving school. I’d greeted him that first day, and he’d been chilly in his responses. He’d clearly held a grudge about our last meeting as faculty adviser and student—and I’d quickly realized we’d never be friendly neighbors.
“You’re right. I don’t make the best Santa,” I said stiffly, the closest I could come to an apology. “If you think you can do better, go ahead.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
To my shock, Jaxson grinned and grabbed the hat right off my head.
“Ho-ho-ho,” he bellowed in a deep voice that sent a strange frisson of energy through me. “Merry Christmas!”
I said that too, I thought mulishly. Of course, Jaxson had managed to inject his voice with actual cheer.
There was a smattering of hoots and applause. Jaxson turned his gaze on me as he smiled wide.
“I’m Santa Jaxson, here to make all your wishes come true!”
I wet my suddenly dry lips, speechless. Jaxson oozed power. Nothing about him was particularly jolly, but he was magnetic.
“Okay everyone, Santa’s time is almost up, but let’s sing a Christmas song before he goes. Which one should we choose?”
Calls of song titles rang out like the bells in so many of them. He led the residents in the fast-paced Jingle Bells, followed by the slower Silver Bells, and finally a cheeky version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”
I watched, a little dazed by the spectacle and incapable of joining in.
How can Jaxson make this so sexy?I wondered.I don’t even like Christmas, and I can’t look away!
When the final song ended, he returned my hat by placing it atop my head. “See? Not so hard.”
I frowned. “Not hard for you maybe. I’m a lousy Santa.”
For once, I wasn’t proud to say it. Jaxson’s nod of agreement didn’t make me feel vindicated—just inept.
“You can do better,” he said. Then shrugged. “But honestly, half of them don’t care. They just want a little fun.”
“Except Harold,” I muttered.
Jaxson laughed, the sound warm and comforting, rather than ridiculing. “Harold is a pill, but you can’t take him so seriously. He likes to goad everyone.”
I sighed. “I suppose. But soon, I’ll be visitingchildren. At a homeless shelter, and then at a hospital.”
His eyebrow went up. “Then you might want to work on your delivery, Professor. Think of it as a class project. Double points for the presentation.”
With a wink, he led me to the exit.
As relieved as I was to leave, I didn’t know where to go. If I went home, I’d just relive my most embarrassing moments on repeat. If I went to Barry, he’d have a good laugh at me. Aunt Henry, though, she owed me.
Wine and cheesecake, here I come.
* * *
“I still can’t believe you reeled me into this,” I complained for the third time over a bottle of Pinot Noir. The red was made with black grapes and contained a hint of strawberry—the perfect pairing for the chocolate cheesecake Henry had failed to provide—and I intended to finish the bottle even though I had papers to grade. “I was the most awkward Santa ever.”
