A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Barcode's POV

I had been so looking forward to the football practice with my teammates, imagining the moves, the techniques I would use on the field, unaware that I had been tailgating the car ahead of me, unaware that I had gone too close to its bumper.

Thankfully I had been able to press on the brakes just in time, well not exactly in time because I felt my front bumper slightly hit his car's rear end.

We both immediately stopped and I got out of my car at about the exact same time that he did.

Whoa holy molly am I about to meet the man of my dreams?

Because coming out of the other car and walking purposely towards me was the hottest drop dead melt in the mouth gorgeous man I had never before seen in my entire life.

"Are you alright?" I asked the moment that he came within hearing distance.

"I think so," he replied after some hesitation. "Are you?"

I ran my hands from my head to my neck then to my chest and my stomach area and bent to ran my hands through my thighs and knees and legs and then straightened up.

"I think I'm all in there," I replied.

He was now smiling at me.

He held out his hand to me saying, "I'm Santa."

I accepted his offer of a handshake and said, "And I'm Barcode. I'm pleased to meet you and I'm sorry that I had to resort to this just to get to meet you."

He didn't smile this time. He laughed out loud.

"Let's check any damages that I might have done to your car," I said, walking over to his car.

There was a very tiny area of paint scraped off from his rear bumper.

He surveyed it with me before saying dismissively, "It will survive."

"Listen," I said before he could walk away, "If later on you discover any other damages, give me a call and I will take care of it."

"I don't have your number," he said.

"I was leading to it," I said with a smile as I handed over my phone to him. "Please put in your number and I will call you so that you can have mine."

"Sure," he replied, taking my phone and tapping several numbers into it before handing it back to me.

I pressed on the number and his phone started to ring.

"Thanks, Santa," I said, extending my hand to him for a good bye handshake.

"What was your name again?" he asked with an apologetic smile. "I'm very bad at remembering names."

"Barcode," I replied. "You might want to put my name into your list of contacts so that you don't ignore my call thinking that I might be a telemarketer."

"Let me do that right now," he said, working quickly on his phone.

"Thank you for being so kind to me, for making it easy for me even if I'm clearly the one at fault for this road accident," I said, feeling sincerely grateful.

"No worries," he said, starting to walk away. "Have a great day."

"I wish you the same," I said as I started walking back to my own car, already searching in my brain for an excuse to call him later.

Perhaps I could invite him to a meal as a way of thanking him for not making me pay for the damage, no matter how slight, on his bumper.

Yes, that was it. I would treat him to dinner at a restaurant of his choice.