Page 62 of His Secret Santa
“Most people do,” Lincoln murmured and turned back to Holden. A quiet anxiety crept into his eyes. “What I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted…” He swallowed. “I just…”
Holden cupped his face and kissed him. “I lied,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice strained with emotion. “What I said at the club… that I didn’t want you anymore… that wasn’t true. I was just… hurting.”
“I’m sorry.” Lincoln engulfed him in his arms and held him tightly. He buried his face in Holden’s neck. “I’m so sorry. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”
Holden bit his lower lip and pressed his face to Lincoln’s shoulder, his tears soaking into his shirt. “You made up for it,” he whispered, “when you fought for me… and saved Jamie.” He sniffed and raised his head. “I want you in my life. I never stopped wanting it… even when I said I did. I was lying to you… and to myself. I didn’t think you would ever want to be with me… out in the open, and I didn’t want to be your…” He hung his head, his chin trembling. “… your dirty little secret.”
“My…” Lincoln held him closer. “I’m so sorry, Holden, that I ever made you feel that way.” He pushed his face deeper into his neck and shuddered. “I’m so sorry.”
“I was wrong,” Holden said quietly. “And that’s all that matters.”
Lincoln kissed him softly. “You will always be too good for me, and don’t you ever doubt it.”
After four years of believing Lincoln Pratt was out of his league, it felt surreal for the quarterback to insist he wasn’t good enough for Holden.
Holden disagreed. “You’re wrong about that.” He kissed Lincoln. Each time their lips touched, it was like a dream he never thought would—or could—come true. None of this felt real. His mind hadn’t yet grasped this new reality that came on him so suddenly.
He savored the warmth of Lincoln’s arms holding him so close, so tight.
Lincoln touched his lips to Holden’s hair. “Before you knew it was me,” he whispered, “what did you imagine would happen between you and the stripper when you came to the club?”
Holden shivered pleasantly. “Everything.”
Swallowing thickly, Lincoln rasped, “Now that you know the truth… has that changed?”
“Has what changed?”
A light tremor quivered through Lincoln. “What you want to happen.”
Holden pressed closer, his heart racing out of control. “No.” His breath shuddered in his throat. “Nothing’s changed.”
A shaky exhale escaped Lincoln. “I want to be with you tonight. But if you don’t…”
“I do,” Holden whispered, an uneven catch in his voice. “I want it, too.”
Lincoln ducked his head and brushed his lips along Holden’s cheek. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
Holden closed his eyes as his sweetest fantasy came to life in that one tender request. Tears welled. “Yes.”
• • •
Jamie grinned like the Cheshire cat.
“What?” Holden mumbled, smiling.
“I’m happy to admit I was wrong about Lincoln,” Jamie said. “When I said you should forget him. But…” He held up a finger, his grin stretching. “… I was still right about the stripper and how things would play out between the two of you. Huh?”
Holden chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you were.” He took out his phone.
“Who’re you calling?”
“My parents.” Holden sighed. “I’m… I’m not going to be home tonight, and I don’t want them to worry.”
Jamie smiled softly. “You’re a good son. I hope, deep down, they know how lucky they are to have you as their kid.”
Holden nodded. He didn’t know if they felt lucky, but they loved him and that was enough.
“Wait…” Jamie squinted. “You’re not going home tonight?” He arched an eyebrow. “So… you and Lincoln…?”