Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

ASHER

“ W hat do you want for Christmas, young lady?”

The little girl grins up at me, her eyes alight with the joy of Christmas. When the toy drive started, getting into the spirit was difficult. My classic douchebag view of the holidays shadowed every aspect.

Yet as the gift table fills up, the children’s happiness spreads, and the parents and other grownups chat and drink eggnog. I can’t lie; I’m getting into it. The sweetest thing is watching Brianna and Mom being so happy, Mom directing the kids my way, my perfect elf flying about with her camera in her hand.

I talk with three more kids, and then a little boy skips to me. As he sits on my knee, my Snowflake walks to the edge of Santa’s Grotto, aiming the camera at me. She’s got a big smile on her face.

“Hey, Santa,” the boy says, cool as a cucumber.

“Hello, young man,” I say. “What would you like for Christmas?”

“I want a push-up competition with Saint Nick!” he yells, laughing, full of energy. He jumps to his feet. “Can you do it, Santa? Can you?”

I laugh, seeing that Mom has joined Holly. Mom even wraps her arm around Holly. It seems as natural as bonding with and wanting my best friend’s sister.

“Are you sure you’re up to the challenge?” I say, raising my voice.

The costume makes it so much easier to get into the spirit. I’m safe behind the beard and the hat.

“Yes!” the boy says, giggling.

“Can we get a parent over here to referee?” I call.

Everybody has crowded around the Grotto. I spot several people dropping cash into the donations bucket. The boy’s father joins us. We both get down into a push-up position. The little lad sticks his tongue between his teeth, taking the challenge seriously.

I watch him as we begin, watching for when his arms tremble. When I judge he’s going to fail, I shake. “Ho … ho … doh! ” I collapse, and everybody laughs, then applauds.

The little kid leaps to his feet, his hands above his head. “I beat Santa! This is the best Christmas ever !”

Soon, I return to my seat with a big smile. Mom wipes a tear from her eye. She makes a heart symbol with her hands and clasps her hands to her chest. For the first time I can remember, the Christmas spirit flows through me.

After I see all the kids, I circulate the drive. The table is overflowing with gifts. I go into the next room and carry another table in. My elf gets more footage of this.

I try not to let my gaze slide to her stockings-clad legs, but it isn’t easy. The green lace presses against her thickness, highlighting how juicy and irresistible her curvy form is. The shirt is baggy but still shows a faint outline of her chest.

The green hat, complete with elf ears, tops it off, and she doesn’t have to fake the excited redness on her face.

Once I’ve set the table down, I walk over to her. “Think it’s going well?” I ask.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says. “That was amazing, the whole thing. Have you ever worked with kids before?”

I chuckle. “Before today, I don’t think I’ve talked to a kid since I was one.”

“You’re a natural. That was pretty impressive. Either you’re the best actor in the world, or somebody is getting into the spirit.”

“Did you see Mom after the push-up contest?” I say, the smile stubbornly refusing to leave my face, not that I’m fighting it very hard. “She was crying. Happy tears, I hope.”

Holly puts her hand on my arm. “They were,” she assures me.

Her touch makes me want to sweep my arms around her. Suddenly, it annoys me not being able to hug and kiss her. It would make this moment so much more wholesome if I could embrace my Snowflake.

She quickly removes her hand. I must’ve been staring at her with all the heat blazing through me.

Mom approaches us, looking at Holly, then at me. “Would you two like to join me for gingerbread lattes at my house? I’ve bought a special machine that makes the most wonderful mixtures.”

Usually, if she asked this, I’m sure there’d be something holding me back. I’d let all the childhood stuff rein me in, replay it in my head, and torture myself with it.

Instead, with all the Christmas atmosphere brimming inside, I can smile. “Sure, Mom.”

Holly looks at me proudly.

When Holly excuses herself and goes to the bathroom, Mom gives me a look over the top of her cup. “Would you like to talk about it, son? We don’t have to.”

“Talk about what?” When she turns away and that sad look comes over her, I feel like an ass. “I don’t mean to snap, Mom. I know I’ve been distant. I’ve barely sent you so much as a birthday or Christmas card since I left.”

“You don’t have to send me anything,” she murmurs.

“No, you’re wrong,” I say, surprising her, surprising myself. “We had it tough when I was a kid, but I’m not a little boy anymore. You’re doing your best to rebuild this. I want to do the same.”

“You and Holly,” Mom murmurs. “Am I seeing things, or do you genuinely care about that girl?”

“You’re not seeing things,” I admit.

“She’s Dan’s sister.”

I laugh without a shred of good cheer. “I know. It’s complicated. Or it’s simple. I’m simply an asshole. I didn’t plan on it happening.”

Holly walks into the room. Mom sets her cup down.

“What are you talking about?” Holly asks.

“Us,” I say. “Mom guessed.”

“I saw ,” Mom says.

“Oh, jeez.” Holly sits down, laying her head in her hands. “Was it that obvious?”

“I’ve wanted Asher to find somebody for a long time. I didn’t think it would happen, but when I saw you together at the toy drive, I suspected something might be going on. You look very natural together, like a good fit. It doesn’t seem forced or difficult.”

“ We’re easy,” Holly mutters. “Our entire situation is difficult. You saw me a few times as a kid, Brianna. How many times did you see my brother?”

“Countless,” Brianna says.

“How do you think he’d feel if he found out his best buddy and baby sister were in a relationship?” Holly glances at me. “I’m not saying that’s what we are. I don’t even know how to discuss us.”

Obsession. Desire. A miracle—making me feel things I never have.

“Whatever it is, it’s important to you both,” Brianna says. “I saw that.”

“Do you think anybody else noticed?” Holly says anxiously. “We need to be more careful.”

“We agreed to stop it,” I explain to Mom, “for obvious reasons. It’s already gotten out of hand.”

We’ve been texting a lot , I almost add, but I’ve improved since leaving my phone at my desk. No more texts, flirting, or skirting close to danger. She’s probably resentful about her Secret Santa giving her the silent treatment again.

“How is that working out for you?” Mom asks.

“You saw how it’s working,” I mutter. “We need to be better … for Dan’s sake.”

“Or you could tell Dan.”

“Tell him what ?” Holly snaps. “I’m sorry, Brianna. I don’t mean to yell, but what exactly should we tell him? We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. We’re not officially dating. We’re nothing.”

She bites down. “I didn’t mean …”

“It’s fine,” I grunt.

Nothing.

I can’t judge her for saying that. I can’t blame her for venting.

Holly stands. “Can we go, please?”

“Dear, I’m sorry.” Mom walks around the table and touches both of Holly’s shoulders. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was— I am —happy for you both. I saw how much you care about each other. I won’t tell you what to do, but my money’s on you making it through—together.”

After hugging Mom goodbye, Holly and I go out to the car.

“I didn’t mean ‘nothing,’” she says as I pull away.

“It’d be easier if you did.”

“I can’t believe she just looked at us and saw.”

“She watches me more than most people. I wouldn’t worry about it. Plus, nobody who knows Dan was there this evening,” I murmur.

“I hate sneaking around. It feels so secret … Santa.”

If there was ever an obvious hint, that’s one for sure. Eventually, I’m going to have to tell her.

She folds her arms and stares out the window. Minutes pass in awkward silence. “Anyway, good luck with your date tomorrow.”

“Snowflake,” I demand. “Stop pouting. I’ve already told you that date means nothing.”

“I’m being petty? I don’t give a fuck.”

She gasps when I grab her leg. I’ve wanted to do it all night. Her thigh is cool to the couch, North Pole-cold, waiting for her Santa to heat her up. She bites her lip, staring at me.

“I just want you,” I confess. “My perfect elf in tight stockings, showing off her thick, gorgeous legs. Don’t even think about me wanting anybody else. It’s not true. It never will be.”

“Never?”

The disbelief in her voice is understandable. I’m making some seriously lofty declarations. Just like over text, I don’t answer. We’re driving down quiet roads.

I slide my hand up her leg, under the hem of her elf’s uniform, and push her stockings down.

“You look perfect,” I tell her. “You feel perfect. All night, I’ve been trying not to stare at your delicious-as-fuck legs in those stockings. If you’re looking for answers, Snowflake, I’ve got none—only one question. Do I want you? The answer’s obvious.”

She moans, touching my arm. I think she’s going to push me away. Then, her resolve wavers. She lets me slide way up her leg, pressing my hand against her underwear.

“Asher,” she moans. “Asher …”

“Tell me to stop,” I groan. “Tell me it’s wrong. Tell me everything I already know. Lie to me, Snowflake, and tell me you don’t want this.”

I press my hand against her underwear, feeling her swollen petals, her nub, her haven getting wet as I drive the Porsche with one hand and drive Holly closer to a release with my other.

She sinks back into the seats, her legs trembling, her moans filling the car with music more welcome than any carol. She closes her juicy thighs around my hand, grinding her hips. It’s wrong. I should stop.

We were having a serious conversation, and I just laid my hands on her like some savage.

Then her entrance grows even wetter. I push her underwear aside and rub my palm against her naked pussy.

“Oh, fu … fuck ,” she gasps. “Asher …”

She shakes all over as she shatters. I glance at her legs, the way her flesh shimmers and shakes for me. Then she lets her hands drop, panting, moaning breaths that make my manhood turn to steel.

“What the heck was that?” she demands.

“The result of an entire night spent staring at your legs in those elf stockings. Are you complaining?”

“It hasn’t made things simpler.”

“No, but are you complaining ?”

She stares out the window again, redness covering her legs, neck, and cheeks. “No comment.”

I laugh. After a moment, she joins in.

Our laughter stops when she says, “What are we going to do?”

“I wish I knew, Snowflake.”