Page 52 of His Secret Santa

Us? Just hearing him use that word in reference to them hurt more than Holden could have imagined. “There is no us.” Holden was losing the battle of his emotions. He didn’t want to be here, in front of Lincoln, when he finally broke down and cried his heart out. “You trick me into… into this… pretending to be someone else, then have the fucking audacity to think we’re in some kind of relationship?”

“I didn’t say that,” Lincoln insisted, his words cracking. “I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Holden swallowed a sob. “I know how you feel. I heard what you told them that night.”

Lincoln stared at him, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Holden… I-I was just trying to get rid of them. I wanted to talk to you that night, but you left before I had the chance. I was just trying to get everyone out of the house first.”

Holden sniffed, his throat so constricted he could hardly speak. “Because you didn’t want them to see you be nice to me.” Holden trembled, about to shake apart. “Didn’t want to risk the rumors.”

“I…”

“Save it,” Holden returned brokenly. “I don’t even care what your reasons are. It isn’t as if you actually like me.”

His throat working, Lincoln whispered, “I do.”

I do. Holden bit his lower lip, fighting back the sobs rising in his throat. “No,” he cried softly with a bitter edge. “Because when you like someone—really like them—you don’t look the other way while your friends bully and humiliate them.” His vision blurred. “I liked you so much, for so long. You were all I could think about… all I wanted.” He blinked and hot tears spilled down his face, no strength left to fight them. “But now… after seeing what you’re really like… I wouldn’t be with you if you begged me.”

Holden turned away and walked to the door.

“Holden, please… wait,” Lincoln choked. “Let me explain.”

Holden gripped the doorknob, his back to Lincoln, afraid to look at him. The other boy’s tears and pleas bruised his heart and weakened its will to resist.

“What’s to explain?” Holden stared at the floor, tears dripping from his chin. “You’d rather look the other way while your friends treat me like shit… than have them see who you really are.”

“Holden…” Lincoln whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Holden mumbled thickly. “I won’t expose you. I would never out anyone… not even you.”

Lincoln sniffed. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

Releasing a shaky breath, Holden murmured, “I don’t care what you were going to say. You showed me what you were made of.” His chin trembled and fresh tears ran free as his voice dropped to a bare whisper. “I don’t want you anymore.”

Holden opened the door and left the room before his heart overruled the lie and sent him rushing back to Lincoln.

• • •

“Holden?” Jamie just happened to glance in the right direction at the right time, or he would’ve missed Holden as his friend pushed through the throng of customers on his way toward the club entrance.

“That doesn’t look good,” Cole said quietly.

Jamie hopped off the barstool and followed Holden, catching up to him outside the club.

“Hey, wait up.” He grabbed Holden’s arm and turned him around. The young man was in tears. He grabbed onto Jamie and broke, ugly crying against his shoulder. “Hey…” Jamie murmured and held him tightly. “Easy, now. What happened?”

Holden shook his head, choking on his sobs.

“It’s okay.” Jamie kissed his hair. “You don’t have to talk about it right now.”

He walked Holden to his car and then drove him away from the club.

“I-I don’t want to go home,” Holden whispered, his voice shaking.

“I wasn’t going to take you home,” Jamie said. “We’ll just… cruise around for a while.” He sighed, emotion knotting his throat. “I wanted this to be a great birthday for you.”

Jamie had hoped things would play out differently than they had. When he’d first sat down at the bar, he was fuming, barely able to hold himself back from storming into the VIP room and punching Lincoln Pratt again.

Then Cole and Gabe joined him, and a friend of theirs, Angel—a petite young man hardly older than Jamie. They explained some things to Jamie he hadn’t been privy to before. Things about Lincoln. It didn’t entirely diffuse his anger toward the quarterback, but certainly softened it some as he gained a fresh perspective of his classmate.