Page 13 of My Rival for Christmas

“Funny, you mispronounced heart.”

“No I didn’t.” The smile she gives me is downright feral, and fuck if I don’t love it. I’ll look into therapy another day. “It’s where I send anyone who betrays me, where they’re cursed to live forever in damnation.”

I forget how dramatic she can be. It’s usually smothered by her more serious, anxiety-driven thoughts.

“Hm, sounds fun. But I think you’re going to want to move me out of there. At least for a little bit.”

“And why’s that?” She crosses her arms over her chest, a silent,this should be goodemanating from her stiff form.

“Because I’m Santa’s favorite.” I wave a hand at her. “Clearly. Otherwise, why would you be here?”

She stares at me for a minute, her sharpened brows practically pressed together, like she’s contemplating my sanity.

It’s not a new look from her.

“I hate to be the one to crush your childhood innocence—actually.” She tilts her head to the side, her red hair cascading down her shoulder. “I’mso delightedto be the one to tell you this, but Santa isn’t real, Nate. He’s not responsible for why I’m here. But maybe if you think he’s the reasonyou’rehere, we can get you checked into a hospital and I can go about my time at this resort in peace.”

“I’ll only check in if you promise to give me a sponge bath every hour. I’m a very needy patient.”

If eyes could shoot lasers, I’d be eviscerated right now. It only makes the grin on my face grow wider.

“Knock it off,” Paige grits through her overly white teeth, drilling a finger in between my pectoral muscles. “Would it kill you to be serious for even five minutes?”

“Yes.” I look from her scowl, her freckles on full display, to her finger as it presses deeper into my chest, and simply lift a brow. “You can give me more than that, Princess. Don’t be afraid to draw a little blood. You know I like it rough.”

She pulls her hand back so fast, it practically blurs and snarls, “What are you doing here? Did Cole put you up to this?”

Okay, maybe I lied. Maybe I can be serious for five minutes when she says the one name that has the ability to suck up all the fun in any room it’s uttered in.

Cole. Fucking Cole.

My entire good mood vanishes as I lock my jaw to keep my own snarl at bay. We were having such a good time. Why would Paige go and ruin it by mentioning her partner’s name?

“Cole? Why wouldColeput me up to this?” As if I’d do anything that fucker asked. “Whatthisare we even talking about?”

Her widened eyes tell me she didn’t mean to bring him up, just as shocked to hear her question as I am, but instead of clearing up why his name matters right now, Paige just crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. LikeI’mthe problem here. “You know the polite thing to do when someone asks a question is to answer it. Not ask your own.”

If she’s going to deflect, then so am I. Some might call it childish, but this is the longest I’ve had Paige’s attention in two years, and I’m not going to let that go by being cooperative. That’s no fun.

“But what do they say when some beautiful woman comes all the way here to flirt with you?”

“I amnotflirting with you.” She looks ill at the mere suggestion.

Isn’t she, though? “Have you ever heard the saying the lady doth protest too much?”

Her mug is clenched so tight, I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered. Or been smashed against my face. “Have you ever heard the lady doth stab you if you don’t stop being annoying?”

“Oh, that’s kinky.” I point my beer at her. “See, flirting.”

“Nathan.”

“Princess.”

“Please be serious right now.”

“Serious is my middle name.”

“We both know your middle name is Gabriel.”

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