Page 9 of His Secret Santa

“Sex is sex. It’s all hot to me.”

“That’s what I mean.” Holden smiled. “Most straight guys wouldn’t think that.”

“This straight guy do.”

“I’m beginning to question your straightness,” Holden ribbed, wholly joking. He didn’t believe for one second that Jamie possessed gay tendencies. Then again, there was a time when people thought the same about Holden. The difference being—Jamie wouldn’t hesitate to come out, loud and proud. Shit, half the school thought he was Holden’s boyfriend, and rather than setting them straight, he played into it, if only to mess with them.

Jamie wiggled his eyebrows. “Never know, baby.”

Holden smiled and rolled his eyes. “Let’s go or we will be late.”

“The main hallway?” Jamie stepped in that direction.

Groaning, Holden reluctantly followed.

“You know,” Jamie said. “Just because you’re not part of their snooty group, doesn’t mean you couldn’t blend right in.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I’m talking about looks. You’re every bit as good-looking as any of them.”

Holden scoffed. “Not.” Definitely not as good-looking as Lincoln Pratt. The man was freaking gorgeous. When he glanced at Jamie, his friend stared back with a smirky look. “What?”

“I know what you’re thinking—what you’ve always thought.”

“And what is that?” Holden’s steps automatically slowed as they neared the corner of the hallway that would take them into the spacious section by the large windows where all the seniors hung out. All the popular seniors.

“The same thing you were thinking two years ago—that even if Lincoln was gay, he would be way out of your league.”

“He would be.”

“Bullshit. Yeah, he’s hot. But so are you.”

“I am not.”

“Look, don’t judge yourself by the morons in this school.”

“What if the morons are right?”

“They’re not.”

Holden didn’t know if he believed that. Though he didn’t consider himself ugly, he hardly thought he was good-looking and nowhere near handsome. And he didn’t think it would matter in this school anyway. He was gay. Maybe in one of the large schools in the city, being gay wouldn’t be a strike against him. But in the smaller towns, it often was—regardless of how “good-looking” one was. A lot of conservative thought processes circulated through his town and his school. In this day and age, it should no longer be an issue, but it was.

Though he had acquaintances in the school, Jamie was his only close friend. The only person Holden could depend on to have his back. Though neither he nor Jamie was “small” or scrawny, they weren’t as large as some of the jocks who had taken a distinct dislike to them. No one had ever physically bullied them, and Holden didn’t worry so much about it happening—especially now, so close to the end of their senior year. But he took nothing for granted and kept his guard up. People were unpredictable when hate was involved.

“Back straight, chin up,” Jamie instructed as they rounded the bend in the hallway. “Look ‘em in the eye and let them know they don’t intimidate you.”

“They kind of do,” Holden mumbled.

“Well, they shouldn’t. You’re better than all of them put together. So, am I.”

He wasn’t wrong. The seniors who hung out in the hall were obnoxious and mean-spirited—most of them—and enjoyed humiliating others. Holden and Jamie didn’t treat people that way. He supposed that alone made them at least a little better than the popular kids.

Holden’s pulse kicked up rapidly when they turned the corner and his eyes immediately singled out Lincoln Pratt and zeroed in on him. Six-foot with short, wavy blond hair and the body of a god, the senior leaned casually against the large window frame, chatting with his girlfriend and head cheerleader, McKenna Peterson. Jealousy sparked through Holden as it always did whenever he saw McKenna standing where he longed to be. The cheerleader played with her flowing blond locks and picked at the front of Lincoln’s shirt.

Stop touching him, Holden thought, but his silent command went unheeded. What truly ignited his jealousy was the fact that McKenna got to live out his fantasy whenever she pleased. It was common knowledge throughout the school that the couple had sex a lot.

Can you blame her for jumping his bones every chance she gets? Wouldn’t you—if he was your boyfriend?