Page 8 of Santa's Secrets

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I’d also met my fair share of assholes.

“Here’s a more important question. Are you seeing anyone?”

I sighed. “I was… for a while. It didn’t last.”

His sigh echoed mine. “Sorry. I don’t have the perfect guy for you lurking in my sack. You’ll have to find him on your own.”

I smiled. “But I appreciate the thought.”

His brow creased. “You’re being safe?”

I assured him I was.

“Good.” He reached under his cloak, and I knew what was coming. I laughed when he placed the brightly wrapped parcel on the cushion next to me.

“I can buy my own, you know.”

“I know, but it makes me happy to do this.”

The thought that I was in some way responsible for making Santa happy sent warmth barreling through me.

“Don’t worry. Someone will come along and sweep you off your feet.” His confident tone was reassuring.

Do I tell him?I smiled to myself.I’ve gotten this far. He should hear all of it.

“Actually? Thereissomeone I wish would sweep me off my feet, but I don’t think he’ll ever find his way into your sack. It just isn’t gonna happen.”

“Why not?” Santa locked gazes with me. “Nothing is impossible, if you believe.”

I took a deep breath. “Having the hots for your English professor is about as impossible as it gets.”

He blinked. Blinked again. “Oh. I see.” He gave a tilt of his head. “So you like older guys?”

“Yeah.” It hadn’t taken me long to realize why Mike had only lasted a couple of weeks. I needed more maturity, more breadth of experience… “I can’t wait until I’m twenty-one and I can go to a gay bar. I might find guys more to my liking then.”

Santa’s eyes twinkled. “This professor… what’s he like?”

I smiled. “Not sure I should be telling you, because it occurs to me that you knoweveryone.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “I never reveal what’s under someone else’s tree. Except for Ben’s elastic Superman.”

We both laughed.

I stared at the dancing flames behind the grate, struggling with how much I wanted to reveal. I knew what my classmates would say if they learned how I felt. Who was to say Santa wouldn’t think the same way?

There was one way to find out.

“He’s maybe in his late thirties. He has a beard. He’s thoughtful, insightful, funny…” I gave him a defensive stare. “I know, it sounds weird that someone my age would be into someone who is twenty years older than me.” My friends would call him ancient.

“Not at all. If that’s what you want…” Santa sighed. “Human life is so short, so… fragile. You need to find happiness wherever you can.”

It was on the tip of my tongue.And where do you findyourhappiness?

The silence struck me.

Santa was looking at me, a steady, searching gaze that left me feeling so visible.

“Do you still want us to meet like this?” he asked.


Tags: K.C. Wells Romance