I'll Be Home...

by Tate James

Sending the Christmas hating Grinch to Vogue Magazine’s Prettiest Place for Christmas was one thing. But this was a hundred times worse for me, because there was only one orphanage in Northland… and it was the one I’d grown up in. Fuck that. No way in hell I’ll be going home for Christmas. Not this year, not any year.

“Your manners haven’t improved, I see. How about thank you, Rayne? If I’d left you, you’d still be limping here by dawn, and why are you holding your arm like that?” He whirled around to glare at me, his handsome face fierce. “Thank you, Rayne, for running me over like roadkill then bullying me into your car with your incessant whining. We had a deal, remember? You need to leave. Now.”

“Frost… you got run over by… Rayne?” The doctor’s lips twitched with amusement. “You got run over by a Rayne Dear?”

Alfred Buddie, a fucking doctor. As if he needed to be more of a good person.

Alfie in dark blue scrubs with tatted up arms, a dark beard that looked soft and silky, and bedroom eyes definitely achieved the divine.

Not even the strongest of grudges could withstand the power of Saint Nick on a mission, and right now… he had a point to make. Fuck, I was done for.

A girl never forgot her first love, and in my case, I had three. That shit stuck on the mind and soul for eternity.

“Oh,” Nick murmured. “That was Frost flirting? Fucking weird but alright, who am I to judge?”

Nick scoffed. “We were never just friends, Rayne. You were—are—the sun of our solar system.”

“How do you want me, Saint Nick? Are you going to use me like a good little ho, ho, ho?”