Page 1 of Yours to Ho Ho Hold
ChapterOne
Drew
I scratchat the thin velvet material of my Santa suit as I make my way to the very back of the plane. Eyes widen and heads turn as I pass, but I’ve gotten so used to the reactions I almost don’t notice.
It’s not like I blame them. It’s not every day you see a young, muscular Santa covered in tattoos out in the wild. It doesn’t help that my suit is essentially a robe with a deep V in the front that falls open every time I raise my arms.
But that’s what the client wanted, so who am I to refuse?
I’d say I wish I had more time to change before running to catch my flight—the last one available to have me home in time for Christmas—but honestly, I don’t mind the attention.
Not in a cocky way. I work hard to maintain this physique. I spend hours upon hours in the gym, so I don’t mind a little attention here and there. But more than that, it’s fun to shock people, to break up their mundane day-to-day routines and make them giggle or pick up their phones and discreetly snap a photo for their friends … People aren’t nearly as sneaky as they think they are.
But as I said, I don’t mind. In fact, I like to give them a little flex or flash them my bedroom eyes—really give them what they’re looking for.
In some ways, it feels like I’m making the world a better place, lightening the moods of my fellow humans and lifting their spirits little by little. Of course, I don’t actually say those things out loud. Well, maybe sometimes when I’m drinking with my younger brother Jamie, but he’s really the only person who sees that side of me.
I’ve always been fine being the butt of the joke. I come from a tightly-knit family with a healthy dash of disfunction, and teasing is our primary shared love language. It used to bother me when I was younger. I thought they were making fun of me, but then I realized they teased Jamie just as much, and he seemed to thrive off their attention, teasing or otherwise.
So, one day I decided I had two choices. I could feel sorry for myself and hide from their teasing … or I could embrace it.
So, that’s exactly what I did.
“Excuse me,” I say as I squeeze through the narrow aisle where a man sits with his legs stretched out and doesn’t bother moving. If I had to guess, he’s feeling pretty insecure, judging by how his jaw’s set like he’s clenching his teeth and the way he’s folding his arms over his chest like he’s a peacock fluffing out its feathers.
Don’t worry, bro. You’re pretty, too, even if your muscles aren’t as big as mine. Though, your scraggly facial hair is another story entirely …
I wish I could say this is a rare occurrence, but it happens more than you’d think. Ever since I really started hitting it hard in the gym and taking my weight training seriously, I always seem to trigger douchebags like this guy.
Men, I’ve noticed, can be extremely insecure…and they say women are the more emotional sex…
I give the guy a friendly nod before stepping over his leg and finding my seat a few rows back. When I lift the overhead compartment to put my carryon in, someone behind me beats me to the last open space. He flashes me an apologetic smile, but I get it. It’s every man for himself. With it being only two days before Christmas, I was lucky to get a seat at all.
“Would you like me to take your bag? It looks like we’ve just run out of space,” a flight attendant asks from behind me.
“Sure. I guess so.” I pass her the bag. “Thanks.”
She gives me a wink, making a show of scanning her eyes down my body. “It’s mypleasure, Santa. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you this evening …” I watch in appreciation as she sways her shapely, plump ass until a female voice steals my attention.
“Why are guys such pigs? I’d rather not have to watch you andStewbecome initiated into the mile high club …”
I turn my gaze to find a cute, petite blonde with bright red lips scowling at me over the top of her book. She’s sitting in what appears to be my seat—according to my ticket, anyway.
I pause in front of the seat, bracing my arms against the overhead compartment and lean toward her. “I’m not sure if you know this, but I think you’re in my seat.”
The beautiful woman rolls her eyes and shoves a piece of paper inside her book before closing it in her lap. “I don’t do window seats. Considering most people fight over them, I figured I’d save you the trouble, and we can call it an even trade. Besides, now you have a better view to ogle the flight attendants.” She picks up her book and continues reading like the conversation is over.
She’s a feisty one, this girl, and her whole snarky attitude has my balls tingling with excitement.
Fuck, I love a challenge … These days, women practically throw themselves at me, making my selection process nonexistent. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun at first, but it gets old dating the same flat women all the time. There’s no substance to any of it, and mutual attraction only goes so far. I miss the chase.
“I don’t think it’s fair to assume everyone loves the window seat.” I flex my bicep as she looks up at me. “Some of us have a hard time squeezing into these tiny seats, and the aisle offers a little more room.” I scan my eyes over her body sizing her up. “My guess is you’re five-four, maybe even five-three? Don’t you think if one of us needs the extra space, it’s safe to say it isn’t you?”
She sits up a little taller, like she’s preparing for a fight, and fuck, if it’s not the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. There’s no fear in her deep brown eyes. If anything, she’s hungry for the confrontation. And I’m happy to give it to her.
“Five-two actually,” she retorts like she didn’t just prove my argument right. “But I was still here first, so—”
“That’s not how it works. I have a ticket—”
