Secret Santa (Milford College Book 4) Read online

  And we’re having sex.

  I wonder if this is the way it’s supposed to feel. Like we’re still friends. Best friends. And also want to get naked with each other.

  I always imagined romance would feel differently. There’d be sparks. Fireworks. Rising music that led up to an unshakable realization that this was the love of your life.

  I love Jeremy. More than anything.

  And I love having sex with him.

  So maybe that’s what it feels like to be in love. I might be twenty-seven, but the truth is I’ve never actually experienced it.

  I’ve never been in love before.

  I don’t actually know if this is what it is.

  I don’t let the question bother me too much. We’ve only been together like this for less than a week. I don’t have to have all the answers yet. I can just enjoy this for what it is.

  Jeremy is obviously enjoying it too. I’ve never seen him so happy.

  The only weird interruption to my giddy daze comes on Wednesday morning when I discover another Secret Santa gift on my desk. I wasn’t expecting to get a second one this week because I haven’t talked to George since our less-than-great date on Saturday night.

  I’m holding my breath as I unwrap the pretty red paper and open the box. Inside is a little music box. It’s obviously not expensive, but it’s decorated with pretty enamel holly leaves and berries. I lift the lid and sentimental Christmas music starts to play. Two little figurines—one man and one woman—run toward each other and embrace as the music plays.

  I laugh out loud in my office at the silly sappiness of it.

  It’s got to be George. I was just telling him on Saturday night about how I love those mushy Christmas movies. I close the lid and open it again so the figures run toward each other with the music one more time.

  It’s the cutest, silliest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s perfect for me. I actually tear up as I play with it.

  If these gifts are from George, then he’s hiding a very sensitive heart beneath his laid-back exterior. I never would have guessed it.

  I’m not sure what to do about the gift. The card just says “From your Secret Santa,” the way it did last time. There’s no way this little music box cost less than five dollars, so the gift-giver is definitely breaking the rules.

  I feel kind of guilty about it. That I love the gift so much—especially if it’s from another man. But what can I do? I can’t return it unless I know for sure who gave it to me. I can’t tell someone to stop giving me things if he hasn’t identified himself. And I’m not even comfortable mentioning it to Jeremy. He’s so resistant to Christmas traditions and gifts that hearing that someone else is giving me trinkets might make him feel bad or guilty.

  And it’s not like I’m going to go out with George again. Even if he asks, I’ll say no. So I just put the music box on a shelf in my office and decide to worry about it later.

  Other than that weirdness, the week is really good, and Saturday evening Jeremy and I go to a Christmas concert on campus together.

  Truth be told, I’m a little nervous about it. We haven’t yet gone on a date. We’ve just been hanging out at home and having sex. I haven’t told anyone about our being together yet. It’s too new. Too uncertain. I don’t want to make a big deal about it right now.

  But if we go to the concert together, people will see that we’re on a date. They’ll start to wonder. Ask questions. The change in our relationship will come out into the open.

  Part of me wants that, and part of me is scared.

  So I’m fluttery—nervous as much as excited—as I shower and dress for the evening in a short black skirt, tall black boots, and a soft, low-cut red sweater. I think I look pretty and festive, and I’m putting on snowflake jewelry when Jeremy knocks on my apartment door and lets himself in.

  I come out of my bedroom, still fastening my bracelet.

  Jeremy has been walking toward me, but he jerks to a stop when he sees me.

  “What?” I say, glancing down at myself to make sure my clothes are all in place.

  He blinks a couple of times. “You look... gorgeous.”

  I laugh in relief and step over to kiss him—just lightly so it doesn’t mess up my makeup. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

  He does look good. He’s wearing black trousers and a blue-gray dress shirt. It’s tucked in and everything, so he clearly made an effort.

  When I pull back from the kiss, I give him a slanting look. “You could have worn a more Christmas-y color though.”

  “I don’t do Christmas-y. You know that.”

  “Well, I’ll keep working on it. What about your Secret Santa thing?”

  He grows briefly still. “Secret Santa thing?”

  “Yes,” I reply with a frown. “You’re Kelly Marshall’s Secret Santa, right? I’m organizing the thing, so I know exactly who you got. You’re doing a great job with the gifts. She’s loved both of them. The peanut figurines made the whole financial aid office laugh their heads off.”

  Jeremy chuckles as he helps me on with my black coat. “Oh. Yes. I’m doing my best. But it feels more like a job than being in the Christmas spirit.”

  “Oh well. I’m not giving up on you yet. You’re going to love Christmas as much as I do eventually.” I pull on a pair of pretty red gloves. It’s not really cold enough outside to require gloves, but I love them and rarely get to wear them, so I’m not going to miss any opportunity. “Ready to do this thing?”

  “I’m ready.” He takes my hand as we leave the apartment.

  THE CONCERT IS THE Milford choir’s Christmas performance, and it’s being held in the only auditorium on campus. The space functions as the theater and a meeting space and occasionally a lecture hall for very large classes. We arrive fifteen minutes early, but it’s already crowded. There aren’t reserved seats, so we stand at the back and look for a good place to sit.

  We end up having to go farther up to the front than I would have preferred. It feels like everyone is staring as we walk up the center aisle together.

  Most students know who I am, and nearly all the staff knows both Jeremy and me. I can’t help but wonder what they’re thinking when they see us.

  I see two empty seats in a row next to my friend Katrina, her boyfriend Max, and Max’s daughter Rika. All three of them smile and wave when they see me, so Jeremy and I crawl over the couple on the aisle to get to the empty seats.

  Max is a very handsome man around forty. He reaches over to shake Jeremy’s hand—the two have met a few times before but have never spent much time together—and he tells me how nice I look. Rika is reading a book. She looks up to nod at us in greeting but returns immediately to her reading, unconcerned about the noise and motion around her.

  Katrina is one of the college librarians. She’s as little and pretty and blond as a Disney fairy, and Max is obviously head over heels in love with her. She’s crazy about him too. It’s evident from spending only a couple of minutes with them. We chat about a student event that took place in the library last week that got a bit too raucous. It’s just a casual conversation. No big deal. But I can’t help but notice how Max’s arm is draped on the back of Katrina’s seat. The way he occasionally touches her hair. The way she leans over toward him as if she’s completely certain that he’s hers. That she’s his.

  She doesn’t ask if Jeremy and I are on a date. She doesn’t even give us curious looks. She includes Jeremy in the conversation (everyone who knows him knows he’s not very outgoing, so no one is surprised when he’s quiet in a social setting). After the first topic is done, she asks him about Leo and tells us about her dog, Tulip.

  It’s a friendly, natural conversation. There’s nothing in the world wrong with it.

  But when the choir files out onto the platform, I have a weird twisting in my stomach.

  Katrina is a good friend. I know her well. And she had no idea that Jeremy and I are actually on a date. She assumed we’re attending as friends, the way we’
ve done many times before.

  We look like friends. We act like friends. It’s not clear that we’re in love, the way it’s clear that Katrina and Max are.

  Maybe we aren’t.

  How the hell do I even know?

  “Everything okay?” Jeremy murmurs in my ear, a few minutes after the music starts.

  “Yes. Fine.” I’m trying to keep my voice very low out of respect to the people around us, so I turn my head toward him. The change in my position means our lips aren’t even an inch part.

  Jeremy’s dark eyes search my face. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I smile at him, pushing away the stray feeling. I don’t have to worry about this. We aren’t at that place yet. It’s not even been a full week since we had sex the first time.

  I love him, and he loves me. That’s enough.

  It doesn’t matter if no one can tell we’re actually a couple.

  I’m able to clear my mind enough to enjoy the rest of the concert, and afterward we go to a nearby coffee shop with Katrina, Max, and Rika. I have a good time. I’m particularly happy to see Jeremy getting into several good conversations with Max.

  I like to see him finding people to be friends with. He’s spent so much of his life alone.

  Jeremy is careful not to touch me or kiss me or give any indication that our relationship has changed. I don’t know if it’s on purpose or not. He’s not a physically demonstrative person—not in public anyway—so it’s likely he wouldn’t do it anyway.

  But I wonder if he’s holding back on purpose. Maybe he feels kind of strange about things the way I do.

  Overall it’s a good evening. Instead of going back to my place, we head to Jeremy’s house so Leo won’t have to spend the night alone. I’ve brought a bag with my overnight stuff.

  We’re quiet on the drive home and quiet as we go into his house, other than an enthusiastic greeting for Leo. It’s late, so we let the dog out and get ready for bed.

  Jeremy wants to take a shower, so I go to the bathroom and wash up first. I climb into bed and wait until Jeremy comes out wearing nothing but his boxers, smelling like soap and toothpaste.

  I smile and scoot over close to him. He wraps an arm around me. “You okay?” he asks softly.

  “Yeah. I’m good. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem... quiet.” He strokes my hair gently. “Did you feel weird? Being in public with me?”

  “No. Of course not. Honestly, I’m not sure anyone even knew we aren’t just friends anymore.”

  “Yeah. It seemed like nothing has changed. That’s good, isn’t it? Did you want people to make a big deal about it?”

  “No. Nothing like that. It’s easier if it’s natural.”

  He brushes a kiss into my hair. “So you feel okay about tonight?”

  “Yes. I feel good. I had fun.”

  “And you feel okay about this whole week?”

  I tilt my head up so I can see his face. “Yes. I do. Better than okay.”

  His expression is relaxing. “So you want to... keep going?”

  With a fond smile, I climb up his body so I can reach his lips. “Yes. I definitely want to keep going.”

  The kiss doesn’t feel like enough, so I straddle his hips and lean down over him, draping my upper body on his. He seems quite happy with this arrangement. He slides his hands down my back over my nightgown and holds on to my bottom.

  The kiss is deep and sensual, and eventually he pushes up my nightgown and breaks the kiss so he can pull it off over my head. I’m not wearing anything beneath it. The room is mostly dark, but there’s enough light for me to see his face. The awe in his eyes as he gazes up at me.

  It makes my heart and belly flutter wildly.

  He starts to caress my body, sliding his hands from my hips to my breasts to my neck and then back down. He teases my nipples until I’m arching back and moaning shamelessly. Then he pulls me back down into a kiss and slides two fingers inside me. He brings me to orgasm with his hand as we kiss. I gasp and whimper into his mouth. It’s the sexiest thing.

  I lie on top of him in a content, happy daze for a few minutes afterward, enjoying the satisfaction of my body. Then I find the energy and focus to straighten up and align myself on his erection. I sheathe him with my body and start to ride.

  He’s gripping fistfuls of my bottom as I move above him, and he’s rocking his hips up into my motion. When I find a good angle and rhythm, I really get into it, bouncing on top of him until I come hard. I keep going, my whole body buzzing with bone-deep pleasure, until I feel the tension break in Jeremy’s body. He lets out a loud sound as he comes, his hips jerking eagerly, clumsily. He comes inside me with deep rolls of his hips, and then he pulls me down into a tight hug.

  I feel so good. Better than anything. I’ve never had such great sex in my whole life. I don’t know if it’s because Jeremy and I are physically compatible or if it’s because we already know and trust each other so deeply.

  But the sex is incredibly good. And I’ve never felt closer to Jeremy than I do right now, our bodies relaxed and naked. Tangled up together.

  Maybe this is what being in love feels like. Maybe those dramatic romantic feels are just the stuff of sappy movies.

  Maybe I’m being stupid to question what we have.

  I don’t want it to end. I couldn’t bear for it to end.

  But I can’t help but wonder if there’s supposed to be something else.

  Maybe it just hasn’t happened between us yet.

  Seven

  ON TUESDAY THE FOLLOWING week, I have a couple of meetings in the morning, so I don’t make it into my office until after ten.

  The first thing I see on entering is another wrapped gift set in the middle of my desk.

  Whoever is giving them to me is obviously able to get the security or housekeeping staff to let him into my office to put the presents in place. I’m weirdly shaky as I drop my bag and sit down abruptly in my desk chair.

  The previous two weeks’ gifts have been lovely and thoughtful. They’ve meant a lot to me. But they also feel special, and I’m starting to feel guilty about getting them from someone other than Jeremy.

  I think about not even opening this one, but there’s no way I can stop myself. I unwrap the gold-and-green paper to find a little box. I lift the lid to reveal a necklace. A Christmas tree pendant on a gold chain. It looks old. Vintage. The tree is beautiful and delicately made. Nothing tacky or overdone about it.

  It’s the prettiest Christmas pendant I’ve ever seen in my life.

  It takes my breath away. Literally. I don’t breathe for way too long as I stare down at it.

  “Hey, May,” a voice comes from the hall, approaching my office. “I need your help.”

  I look up with a quick intake of air to see Beck Wilson standing in my doorway. She’s a member of the history faculty—pretty and very curvy with big blue eyes and an irresistible smile. She’s holding a few sheets of paper.

  “Sure,” I say with an answering smile. “How can I help?”

  She comes in waving the papers. “Can you look over these forms and make sure I filled them out right? They’re the reimbursement forms for the history club Christmas party. Last time I submitted reimbursement, I did the forms wrong and the business office sent them back. So I filled them out again, and they sent them back a second time. I don’t want to go through that ordeal again.”

  I laugh at her exaggerated dismay—obviously played up for humor. “I’ll be happy to check them,” I tell her, reaching for the forms and scanning them quickly. “They are kind of complicated.”

  I find a box that she’s skipped, so I point it out, and she pens in the information as I watch. She hands it to me to check again, and this time I nod my approval. “This is all right. Just take it to the business office. You can also do it online. Just enter the information exactly as you have it here and scan the receipts.”

  “Thank you. After I finish this, I’ve just got to enter the final grades in my
class, and I’ll be totally done for the semester.”

  “What are you and Evan doing for Christmas?” Beck recently married one of the English professors on campus. He’s reserved and a bit uptight, and she’s fun and full of drama. They’re an adorable couple.

  “We’re hanging out in Virginia until Christmas, visiting our families and just taking it easy. Then for the week after Christmas we’re going to England. I’m so excited. It will be kind of cold, but I don’t care. I’ve never been before.”

  “That sounds amazing. I hope y’all have a great time.”

  “I’m sure we will. We have a whole Tolkien pilgrimage planned out.” Her cheeks are pink, and she flashes her dimple at me. “It’s our thing.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure you’ll have a fantastic time. The only real traveling I’ve ever done is chaperoning student groups, and that’s really not the same.”

  “Definitely not. You should definitely travel just for fun sometime.” Beck glances down at the unwrapped present on my desk. “What’s that?”

  I show her the lovely necklace in the box. “It’s from a Secret Santa.”

  Beck’s eyes widen. “There’s no way that’s less than five dollars, not even if they found it in a thrift shop.”

  “Yeah. It’s not from the regular gift exchange. I can’t participate in that because I’m organizing it this year. Someone has just been giving little gifts every week.”

  “Oh my God! You have a secret admirer.”

  I feel myself blushing and wish I wasn’t. “It’s not like that!”

  “Isn’t it? What else has the person given you?”

  I show her the two other gifts, which I’ve placed on a shelf in my bookcase.

  “These are definitely secret admirer gifts,” Beck says with a definitive nod. “Who do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know. I have a couple of...” I trail off since I really only have one guess, and I don’t know for sure if it’s George Franks. I’m definitely not going to suggest such a tentative possibility.