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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.
“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.”
“What happened to the bird?” “Well,” I said. “Spoiler alert, she made it. Soon as her wing was healed, he let her go and she flew away.” “Did you ever see her again?” That was a loaded question. “No,” I told her. “But the fact she healed and she could fly meant she could have the life she deserved. We didn’t need to see her again to know.”
“How do you want me, Saint Nick? Are you going to use me like a good little ho, ho, ho?”
Who the fuck needed three wise men when you could have three well-hung ones instead? Merry Christmas to me, indeed.
