Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“I’ll do my best.”
He claps me on the arm. “Thanks, Asher. You’re a good friend.”
He has no clue how wrong he is.
Holly: Any sign of Derek? She texts my real number now. I’m her not-so-secret Santa.
Me: No, I reply.
Holly: If he comes back, he might tell everyone he found the phone in your desk.
Me: I was thinking the same, I text. I don’t know what to do, Snowflake.
Holly: I think we both know what we have to do.
I drum my fingers against the desk. Or maybe it’s more like I’m whacking it in frustration. I know where she’s going with this, and I don’t like it one bit.
Me: We do?
Holly: Don’t be naïve, Asher, she replies. That was a close call earlier. We’ve been swept up in whatever this is and let ourselves slip too many times. It’s time we commit to staying away from each other: no texting, no other stuff.
I don’t have to guess what she means by “other stuff.” If I close my eyes, I see it, relive it, feel her, taste her.
Me: Do you think we’re capable of that?
Holly: We have to. We can’t keep doing this. There are only two choices here. End this or tell Dan the truth. Dan wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would mess with his head and scramble his brain. Maybe he’d never recover and never want to see us again. Do you want to break his heart?
Me: Hurting him is the last thing I want, I tell her.
Holly: Go on this date. Try to have fun with this other woman.
Me: Are you fucking kidding?
Holly: It’s what you’d do if nothing ever happened between us.
Me: Is that what you want? I’m hitting my desk for real this time. I need to calm down, but I can’t.
Me: You want me to be with somebody else, Snowflake? To kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, be her Santa, and she can be my elf? Let me tell you something; this is the truest thing I’ve ever texted. The idea of you with anybody else, even for a second, makes me fucking livid.
Holly: It’s not about what I want, she texts back. It’s about what’s right. This is it, Asher. It’s over. It ends here.
I set my phone on the desk, shaking all over.
CHAPTER 21
HOLLY
Ihad to tell Asher it was over.
Did I mean it? Do I want this?
The answer to those questions is obvious, but we need to put Dan’s feelings before our own. We’ve let this go too far for too long.
Focusing on work is difficult, especially when tears spring to my eyes. Each time I think about my brother, I almost cry. It’s the same if I think about Asher and what could’ve been and will never be.
My cell buzzes. I check it, hoping for a text from Asher, imagining the impossible. I’ve spoken to Dan. He said he wants us to be together, Snowflake.
Obviously not.
It’s my Secret Santa phone.
Derek: I guess you’ve told everybody I’m some kind of pervert, haven’t you?
Me: No, Derek, I reply. I don’t want to fight with you. I’m just not romantically interested.
Derek: I know, and I understand why. I’ve been doing some digging online. There are photos of the big boss and Asher Mitchell when they were teenagers at a science fair together with their arms around each other. It looks like they’ve been best buddies for a long time. How do you think your brother would feel if he found out, hmm?
I grip the table, lean back, and close my eyes. Try to focus. Try to find a semblance of peace. There’s nothing but chaos.
Derek: Hello? he texts. Are you still there?
Me: I don’t know what you want me to say. It was a Secret Santa game. We didn’t know who we were texting.
Derek: Do you expect me to believe Asher wasn’t aware of your history with your dad and your Christmas traditions? HE knew who YOU were. That alone is enough to wreck Dan—the fact his best buddy wanted to screw his sister.
Me: You don’t know what you’re talking about.
I have to type the message several times because my hand is shaking.
Derek: This is the part when you ask me what I want.
I feel sick. I grab the waste bin and put it nearby, just in case.
Me: You don’t have any leverage.
Derek: Sure, I don’t, Holly. That was sarcastic, by the way. You need to admit that I’ve only ever tried to be nice to you. I’ve only been friendly. I’m a decent person. I’ve complimented you, taking an interest in your work and hobbies. How have you repaid me? The Mr. Nice Guy crap is over, and you’ve only got yourself to blame. I want to see you. No clothes. You know the drill.
I grab the waste bin and stare down at the crumpled paper at the bottom for a few moments as I fight the urge to vomit.