Page 64 of My Rival for Christmas

My body tingles at the possibilities.

Doctor!

Commotion on the other side of the wall pulls me away from the bed. Nate’s rich voice is muffled, and I can’t help but picture him talking to Snowball.

Oh my god, Snowball.My eyes bug out in alarm, completely forgetting that my poor innocent creature was in the room with us when Nate went down on me…

I look from the bed to where his little makeshift pen is, and the vantage point is so poor, thanks to the height of the boxes, he couldn’t possibly have seen anything. And he’s technically an old man in hedgehog years, so the chances of him being more deaf than not are pretty high… I’m just going to pretend he had no idea what happened and that I didn’t scar him.

Please no one report me to animal protective services. I am a good pet mom, I swear.

As I walk out of the room, I find Nate with his back turned to me as he stands at the stove with a metal spatula in hand. Something delicious permeates the air, but I don’t pay attention to it.

Not when Nate’s wearing only a backwards hat that covers his sex-tousled dark hair and a new pair of sweats that sit criminally low on his hips. I stare at them, arrested by the sight, feeling a rush of pleasure knowing I made him so turned on he came in his pants, before drawing my gaze up to his bare back on display. Watching as his muscles flex with every movement as he tends to whatever he’s cooking in that frying pan.

I wait for my self-preservation to kick in and reprimand me like it usually does when I let my gaze linger on Nate for a little too long, as my gaze swoops down to ogle his rounded ass, but nothing comes. Nothing but a healthy dose of appreciation for the male form.

Ugh.I tear my gaze away to see the fireplace roaring.

Guarded by a metal screen that keeps Snowball from getting too close to the flames as he scuttles around the floor, chasing one of the paper balls Nate made for him. A hardboiled egg and cut up banana sit on a small plate near him, his little teeth marks marring both.

“I looked up what to feed a hedgehog if you ran out of food.” Nate’s voice steals my attention. “Figured the little guy would be starving. Gave him water, too, but he spilt the bowl everywhere, so I have to refill it. I also have some chicken and things that we can give him later.”

“Thank you,” I tell him softly. Something warms in my chest at the thought of Nate taking the time to care for my pet. It’s such a sweet, simple gesture that says so much. Just like lettingme watch all fiveTwilightmovies without complaint—lots of commentary but no complaints.

It reminds me of things I’ve forced myself to forget about him.

Like despite how he looks like a big, bad man with his array of tattoos, pierced ears, and now the beard, Nate is actually a really sweet and thoughtful guy.

Damn it.It’s like that orgasm knocked all my defenses right out of my head.

Nate shrugs like it’s no big deal.

And maybe for most people, it isn’t, but I’ve felt so alone for so long, not letting myself rely on others. I mean, I don’t even call my super to fix things in my apartment unless I have to. I’m incapable of letting people get close enough to help, to let them shoulder even a hint of my burdens, because I know it’s only going to lead to me being let down.

But this? This feels so nice.

Do not cry,I order myself sternly. Needing a distraction, I ask Nate, “Did you get ahold of your dad?”

He’s supposed to be getting into town today.

Nate nods, “Yeah, but he’s still, like, eight hours away. When he heard the snow was bad up here, he didn’t want to chance getting stuck on the road, so he pulled off into the closest town. I told him not to even bother leaving until he knows it’s good to drive up to the cabin.”

“He doesn’t want you to be alone for Christmas.”

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and from the snow-covered ground outside the large window in the living room, it looks like Nate and Mr. Ford won’t be together for the holiday for the first time in probably Nate’s whole life.

“Ah, but I’m not alone. I have you.” Nate gives me a grin, but it’s a little different from all his others. More reserved, as if he’s not quite sure where we stand or how we’re supposed to act.

Nowa sting pierces my chest—over Nate possibly regretting what we did.

I’ve been so focused on myself, I’ve barely even thought about how it affected him. As a guy, I just assumed he would enjoy the early morning extracurriculars, but what if he’s now having doubts?

Oh. Andthatmakes my stomach roll, spiking my pulse.

I’m so glad my anxiety has moved on from caring about me to caring about Nate. That’s so generous of it…not.

“Lucky you,” I try to keep my tone light. “Instead of spending it with a loved one, you now get your very own scrooge. We require three meals a day and a complete lack of acknowledgement of the holiday.”

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