My Christmas tree is covered with dicks. Purple, green, red, and blue lights twinkle prettily from small penises. The phallic, translucent bulbs splash the walls with color. Tiny cocks. Everywhere.

It’s not just lights. Golden dongs weigh down branches. A pair of hairy balls swings next to a seductive UPS man. The strangest ornaments I’ve ever seen—a winking merman, a unicorn with a penis horn, and dicks of every shape and shade.

Where did he get all this? And how?

Easy. Ronan has the key.

I stand back, admiring the decorations. It should piss me off that he’s breaking into my house with impunity, but I don’t hate this. It looks nice. Expensive. It belongs in a strip club, but still.

A package is tucked under the tree. It’s suspiciously long and thin. The wrapping paper is a plain gold, finished with a silky golden bow. A small card is attached. I flip it open.

I laugh and pick up the present. When I shoot Ronan a text, he calls me right away. I stab the button.

Ronan’s purr slides into my ear. "So, you found it?"

"Yeah, I did. Gotta hand it to you. I’ve never seen so many dicks."

He chuckles. "Did you open your gift yet?"

"I was planning to open it in front of your mom."

"That’s a terrible idea."

"Oh?" My voice lifts in mock surprise. "Why’s that?"

"You know why, Good Girl."

I squeeze the gift, fingers sliding around the hard object. "It’s a dildo, isn’t it?" I wait for his giggling to stop. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate and weird that is?"

He ignores me, laughing. "Open it."

Sighing, I tuck the phone into the crook of my neck and tear the wrapping paper. A sleek purple shaft pokes out. I rip a strip along its length, and the silicone object rolls out. It is, in fact, a dildo. One whose packaging advertises the O-Matic as a three-in-one pleasure enhancement device.

"It vibrates and contains a heating mechanism." Bemused, I study its other features. "Does it talk, too?"

Wild laughter booms from the speaker.

"I’m glad this is so hilarious to you, because when I pay you back—and I will—you won’t be smiling."

"Awww, come on. It’s funny. We’re having fun."

"What if my mom was here? How do you think she’d handle her Christmas tree befouled like this?

"Exactly why I did it while she was gone."

"Are you trying to piss me off?"

"No, I’m simply paying you back. You gave me a boner, so I covered your tree in dicks. That’s how this works."

"Subtle." I seize the dildo and its wrapping paper, walking to my room. "I didn’t mean to get you excited."

"I’m sorry, what?"

My cheeks flush as I search for a place to hide my gift. Why throw it away? I might use it, but he’ll never, ever find out.

I shove everything under the mattress. "You heard me. I was drunk."

"Oh, you were drunk. Yeah, keep using that excuse. I’m sure that’ll convince everyone who was at the party."

"I had like five Jell-O shots! You had to drive us home, remember?" I bite my lip as he chortles, willing to stay calm. "Ronan, I’m done with this stupidity. All I want is some peace and quiet before I return to school."

"If you’re done, why can’t you quit me?" Heat rolls through his soft voice. "Gigi, we’re adults—"

"Is that a joke?"

"We’re both adults. Why can’t you admit that you want me?"

A ball lodges in my throat. I swallow the lump, catching a glimpse of my scarlet face in the mirror. "Because you’re the most arrogant ass I’ve ever met, and I definitely do not want you."

"That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t fuck me."

The phone slips. I catch it, uttering a small gasp. "Ronan."

"Gigi. I want you."

"No." I end the call, holding the screen against my pounding heart.

The cold wind does nothing to hide my burning shame. A Santa Claus suit should be the most non-arousing costume on the planet, but Ronan can make it seductive. He turns his head, grinning at me through that ugly fake beard, and winks. Heat pools between my legs, where unfed hunger quickly leads to sharp frustration.

I played with the dildo. I came close to using it twice, but, if I had, I knew who I’d think about. It’s out of question. Ronan doesn’t belong in my thoughts. He certainly has no place in my fantasies.

Before this, I’d never lusted after him. I’d never pleasured myself to thoughts of him, danced on his lap, or harbored a deep desire to touch him. His confession had opened a door I never knew was there.

Gigi. I want you.

I can’t stop thinking about what if. I could say yes, sleep with him, purge this ridiculous obsession from my system, and go back to hating him in peace.

But it’s what he wants.

"Get your head in the game, Good Girl." Ronan sits straighter in the plastic chair. "Everyone can tell you’re lusting after me."

"Go to hell."

Smirking, he raises his gloved hand and waves at nobody in particular. Occasionally, he belts out a ho-ho-ho that’s more and more weary as the hour wears on.

Ronan’s mom begged us to appear at the neighborhood block party. The street is filled with festivities. Inane Christmas music blares from speakers as kids raid a table covered with sweets. More children line up to sit on Santa’s lap.

"Jesus, when will it end?" He drops the growl and booms, "Ho, ho, ho!"

An afternoon of toddlers climbing onto his legs with sticky hands was making him cranky. A baby had already vomited on his suit. Another kid screamed bloody murder, puncturing both our eardrums. Ronan took it all in stride. I’m impressed, and that annoys me because I’m not looking for reasons to like him.

"Thanks so much for doing this." A father with a swaddled baby on his chest pats Ronan’s back. "Could we get a picture of you holding her?"

"Of course, man. That’s what I’m here for."

"Perfect."

Ronan nestles the baby, who whines at the sudden disturbance. He coos to her as someone snaps a photo.

I drape an arm across Santa’s shoulder, smile plastered on my face.

"It’s time to go," I hiss through clenched teeth. "My tits are going to fall off."

Sighing, he shakes his head. "We still have the dumb secret Santa exchange."

"The what?"

He closes his eyes. "Every year the neighborhood does a secret Santa."

"Let’s just pick a name from the hat and go."

"How? Kids aren’t dumb, you know. They’ll see me disappearing into my house and put two and two together."

I gaze the scene of screaming, face-painted children, high on sugar, red-and-white streamers fluttering, and adults quietly getting plastered on mulled wine. Ronan might as well be a blimp in that outfit. There’s no escaping the horde.

"My house has the side entry. We could pretend we’re heading to the North Pole, or something."

"Whatever. Get me out of here."

"Attention, everyone!" I beam at the crowd of whining children and harassed parents. "Thank you for coming, but Mr. Claus and I have some much-needed Christmas planning to attend to!"

I loop an arm around his. Ronan extricates himself from the seat and wheezes out the millionth ho-ho-ho.

"Bye, Santa!" Children run into our knees, screaming last-minute toy requests as we escape the tide.

"Wait!" The neighborhood busybody forces a bowler hat into Ronan’s middle. "Pick a name!"

Ronan grabs a strip of paper, and so do I. "Merry Christmas. Santa needs to lie down."

We break free of the kids, pretending to stroll past our backyards into the boundless white void until they stop looking. Then we double back to my house.

Ronan tears the beard from his ashen face, grimacing as crosses the threshold.

"You okay?"

"I will be in a sec. Fuck this fucking fat suit."

In the mudroom, he yanks the belt from his middle and lets it drop. Then he unzips the red suit that desperately needs a dry clean. I help him take off his extra blubber, and he steps out of his boots, clad in nothing but a white undershirt and boxers. Limping to the living room, he collapses onto the sofa. Then he rests his feet on the coffee table.

I duck into my room, itching to peel the red leggings off.

"You get a free show, but I don’t?" Ronan calls. "Not fair."

"Yeah, well. Too bad."

I slip into skinny jeans and a tank, running fingers through my hair. I shouldn’t allow him to stay. He’s practically naked, and I’m battling a huge crush. It’s a ripe opportunity for something to happen.

I’ll let him rest for a few minutes, and then I’ll kick him out.

I reenter the living room. Ronan’s eyes snap to me with a deep, searching look. Arms sprawled over the couch, he beckons me. There isn’t much room on the loveseat. I’ll be within arms reach no matter where I sit. That’s probably the idea.

I hesitate. "Need anything? Tea?"

"Fuck tea." His voice is like iron. "Come here."

Don’t show him you care.

A shiver zips down my spine. Stepping over his leg, I sink into the cushions beside him. I’m too close. My bare shoulder brushes against his arm.

He turns to me, eyes hotter than fire. "I still want you."

"When are you going to drop this?"

"Not until you can look at me, tell me you don’t feel the same, and mean it."

Never, in other words.

I meet his striking blues, determined to say exactly that, but then he touches me. It’s only a gentle brush of his fingers, but more than enough to jumpstart the lust I thought I’d buried. Images roll through my mind: me straddling Ronan’s waist, embracing him, and meet his lips in a kiss.

"Gigi?"

I’ve been silent for way too long. "I should get to my studies."

Ronan smirks as though he can see into my mind. "Now you’re pretending you have exams when you’re on the quarter system, and you don’t start new classes until after the break."

"I’m studying for the MCATs, you dork."

"That’s what you want to be, huh? Can’t say I’m that surprised."

A bolt of anxiety pricks my heart. "I’m not sure, but I have to decide soon."

"Why are you on the fence?"

"There’s a lot of self-sacrifice on that path. I’m not sure if I’m willing to do it."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

Despite myself, I laugh. How could this spoiled, privileged football star understand anything about me?

"I could spend the next few years battering my body, or I could do something else." Ronan sobers, sliding a swollen ankle over his knee. "Believe me, I’ve considered it."

"What did you decide?"

He massages his ankle briefly before setting it down. "I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out."

He squeezes my shoulder before lurching to his feet.

I follow him. "You’re leaving?"

"You sound disappointed."

I am.

My cheeks blaze as Ronan gives me a one-armed hug. "Thanks for letting me hide out here. I’d stay, but I have to run errands for Mom."

I pat his back, hoping Ronan can’t feel my heartbeat. He holds me for a second longer than he should, sliding from my hands. Regret splinters his gaze.

I walk him to the mudroom. "I guess I’ll see you around."

"You will. Promise."

He smiles at me before disappearing out the side door with his Santa gear, and I smile.