“Ho, ho, ho, it’s Christmas at the Mavericks,” Six explained to the camera, her red suit and big white wig ill-fitting in an entirely comical way.
I stared hard, trying to find the outline of her body underneath the baggy material, but it was a lost cause.
Luckily, I had the mental film reel to tap into when the physical recreation became faulty.
“We’ve been following these guys long enough to know they can expect something more than a lump of coal in their stockings, but what is it they actually want? Lamborghinis? A championship win? How about a pony? We don’t know yet, but I’ll tell you right now, I intend to find out!” A hearty, exaggeratedly jolly variety of a chuckle left her white beard-covered lips.
I positioned myself in the corner up against a wall but within reach of a table where a group of the guys had gathered. I couldn’t help but be a little sad that the video blog series with Six was coming to an end, but I was trying to work through it.
Fuck. No one even knew we had anything more than a professional relationship.
My tie felt tight around my neck as she came toward me, swaying her hips in a way unworthy of Santa or Mrs. Claus. The gleam in her eye was vivid and teasing, and I couldn’t wait to hear what would come out of her mouth.
It was one thing to connect with her bodily, but I’d never met a funnier woman in my life—and Cassie Phillips, queen of the punch line, was my sister. As much as I’d miss having Six around for the sake of our physical relationship, I feared I’d miss my friend even more.
“Ho, ho, hello, Sean,” she greeted, winking at the other guys as they laughed at her creative use of the Claus-ism. “Have you been a good boy this year?”
Sam Sheffield and Oran Wells taunted and howled their boos, but Six and I both did our best to ignore them. Instead, I turned on the charm and embraced my public persona. These videos were important to the success of Six’s blog and good for the popularity of the Mavericks organization. If sounding like a cocksure asshole every now and then benefitted viewership, I was willing to make the sacrifice.
“I think my fans know I’ve been an excellent boy this year.” I winked.
Cam hacked and coughed, dramatically faking the need to retch. The other guys laughed and high-fived behind his back, and I realized for not the first time that we might have a slight maturity problem. As I considered the possibility, Quinn found my eyes in the distance and nodded.
Yes, he confirmed nonverbally. I’ve been trying to point this out for years.
I laughed at the clarity of Quinn’s Southern twang in my head and turned back to Six.
“Ah, yes,” she mused. “Touchdowns, completions. Santa loves those things.”
“If he’s a Mavericks fan, he does.”
She laughed, high and giggly, and then rolled it into a deep, throaty ending as she realized she was supposed to be playing the part of a man. I laughed at the irony of the womanliest female I’d ever met trying to come across as a man. She wasn’t exactly trying that hard to be convincing, though. “He is. Especially, Quinn Bailey.”
Six winked as my smile melted and stepped around me to talk to Quinn, who’d been moving closer slowly in feeble acceptance of joining the rowdy group.
“Quinn Bailey,” she greeted. “I know you’ve been good this year.”
“Always, Santa,” the fucker replied dutifully, forming his hand into a Boy Scout’s sign and crossing it over his heart or some shit. I’d never been a Boy Scout, instead playing in the woods with Cassie to the theme of straight-up survival games. So I couldn’t be certain, but it sure seemed like something a do-gooder would do.
“And what is it you’d like as your reward?” Six asked, pointing the microphone in Quinn’s face and winking back at the camera. Joe smiled behind it and bit his lip to suppress his laugh. I knew they’d known each other for a long time, but I wondered idly if he’d ever crushed on her. Six was the kind of woman I imagined most men lusted after. Hot and luscious in all of her petite curves, with bold, defined, goddess-like features and a mouth like a sailor, she was the ultimate prize to carry in your belt. She was fun and funny and she could hang with the guys, but she was also deliciously wild in bed.
I was completely mesmerized by her appeal, so I couldn’t see a reason why someone else wouldn’t be.
Especially someone who spent as much time with her as her cameraman did.
Quinn shrugged. “I’ve already got the perfect little kitten.”
I rolled my eyes and the guys guffawed, but no doubt the sap was going to make the women who watched this series swoon.
I walked toward Six, and then I turned her attention back to me with a bold grab of her hips. She startled at the intimate contact but deflected it with a quick and cute reference to her costume.
“Oh, hello, Sean. Did you want to sit on Santa’s lap?”
“I’d rather it be the other way around, and I think Santa would too,” I suggested unabashedly. Quinn’s eyebrows rose to his hairline and some of the other guys quieted, but I ignored the scrutiny.
Six had a harder time.
She smiled under the beard and played it off, though, using her good-nature as a veil. As far as Six would have them know, my lap was the same as any of the others in the room.
“Okay, then. Make a chair for me.”
I sat and pulled her into my lap, and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders without thinking. I didn’t dare call it into notice. The time was short where I could relish her closeness without uncertainty and waiting to see her again.
Would she be in the New York area at any point in the future, and would she want to see me if she were? What if I went to California? Would she be open to that?
Questions rose and raced in my mind, but I shut them all down as she asked one of her own.
“What is it you want for Christmas, Sean?”
The truth was ripe and real, and I didn’t hold back as I let her have it. “Seems like I’ve got it right here.”
Angels swooned and the stars aligned and everything worked out for the best.
At least, in my head, it did.
The reality was much harsher.
Freshly uncomfortable, Six climbed from my lap and parried my comment with one of her own. “Santa doesn’t offer ego-protection plans,” she teased, but her voice was both playful and annoyed. “Check with Manwhores ‘R’ Us.”
Damn, that stung a little bit.
The other players may have heard her response, but they forgot about it as soon as she graced them with her undivided attention.
I headed for the bar and grabbed a drink, watching her across the room as I sucked it down. The taste of the whiskey was potent and unforgiving, but then again, her brush-off had been too.
Quinn was quiet as he took a place next to me, a soft, reflective sigh as deep as a crater.
I knew he’d watched us.
I knew he’d seen.
Quinn Bailey was a keen observer and a kind heart, and ultimately, he was the keeper of the team. He looked after us emotionally and physically, and right now, thankfully, he understood that I needed some space.
The silence lasted the depth of my glass and half of a second before Six moved to the front of the room and climbed up on a chair.
The crowd went wild for her, just like my heart, and I rubbed at my chest to ease the tightness.
“Guys, guys!” she yelled over the din of cheers. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done this series without you, obviously.” She winked. “But mostly, I couldn’t have turned it into what it is without your willing and witty input. I’m going to miss all of you as I travel back to California, but I hope you’ll all keep in touch.” Her eyes moved to me, and my heart picked up so much it climbed into my throat.
“I’ve had the best time. And I’ll remember it forever. Thank you!”
The guys cheered and hollered, but my jaw might as well have been sewn shut.
Quinn noticed, as he always did, and filled the space with much-needed chatter.
I felt his hand come down on my shoulder and squeeze as he told me some good news intended to distract me.
“I’m going to propose to Cat,” he murmured softly. I nodded. “Think you can help me set it up?”
My jaw felt dangerously close to shattering, so I forced it open in order to answer.
“Of course,” I agreed and then showed the ultimate return of trust by confirming his suspicions. “Now that Six is heading home, it seems like I’m going to have the time.”
He offered a short, curt nod, but other than that, knew not to take it any further.
I moved my eyes across the room, and they latched on to Six like a magnet.
She laughed at Teeny, and her throat opened as her head went back. She was happiness and freedom and none of the crushing disappointment I felt embodying me.
I wished I could’ve been okay with her leaving.
I wished I could’ve been perfectly fine with saying goodbye.
I wished a lot of fucking things in that moment.
But, sadly, that didn’t mean any of them would come true.