Page 33 of Santa Baby

I arched a brow and slouched into my chair. “Why would I be scheduling dates when you and I are—” I cut myself off. Dating. This felt a lot like dating, the real kind. Not a scheme, not a pre-planned scam. I looked over the table at the woman sitting opposite from me, picking at her pizza. “This is a date, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” She mimicked the arch of my brow.

I glared at her this time. “Was that sarcastic?”

“I guess I am your girlfriend for a few more weeks, so going over to your apartment to help you decorate for Christmas isn’t a weird thing to do on a Sunday night.”

I watched her closely as she dropped her eyes to her soda. I had a feeling she might have been digging for something, possibly wanting to question me about my real dating life.

“I don’t go on many dates, Fia.”

“I find that really hard to believe.”

I crossed my arms and leaned on the table. “I don’t have—I’m not very skilled in the art of conversation.”

“Why do you think that? You and I get along so easily. You’ve never had any issues talking to me about anything.”

“This is different,” I said.

“How?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question. Everything about being with Fia felt easy and natural. It felt right and never once felt forced.

“What’s your type, then?” she asked, swirling her straw, the ice in her cup rattling together.

“My type?”

“In women.”

I rolled my lower lip between my teeth. “I haven’t given that any thought⁠—”

“You know what, you’re the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent. You don’t seem to realize how hot you are, how well spoken and kind. I’m shocked you’re not married already.”

I blinked, unsure what to say in response to that.

“I just—I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Especially with me⁠—”

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I didn’t regret it, not after her eyes lit up and her mouth ticked into a tender kind of smile.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it.”

“You can’t.” She laughed bitterly, that brightness in her eyes fading. “Mason⁠—”

“What are you trying to say?” Unease ripped through my chest. I forgot our pizza entirely. I forgot we were in public, surrounded by strangers.

She shook her head. “That I’m not like you. I’m not part of your world.”

“We’re eating shitty pizza together right now, Fia.”

“I know. You should be at Nobu eating caviar with some model who gets full off diet coke⁠—”

“Fia, I don’t want any of that.”