Page 2 of Mistletoe Kisses

“Maybe one or two? Grab the tequila. Let’s go.” I clapped my hands a bit too intensely, going by the way Keaton jumped. Our silly plan was the only thing giving me an ounce of happiness right now.

My anxiety level had dropped from about twelve to a manageable six by the time we’d each had a few drinks. We spent the evening eating reheated pad Thai and rehashing horror stories from work. My sides ached from Keaton’s impression of my boss.

“Remember that time Brett microwaved his leftover fish, and then they made everyone sign a document about break room etiquette?”

I frowned. “Brett kept stealing my yogurt cups.”

“That guy’s an asshole. What do you think he’s going to do for a job now?”

“Start an OnlyFans or something with cryptocurrency,” I said.

Keaton snorted and the tequila bottle tipped in his hand. “Maybe an OnlyFans about cryptocurrency. He’ll jerk off while talking about Bitcoin.”

That sparked a torrent of laughter from me. “I hate to say it, but I can totally picture him doing that.”

We started brainstorming ridiculous job prospects for our former colleagues, which brought my brain back around to the fact we no longer had jobs.

“Job hunting at Christmas is terrible. Maybe we should get holiday retail jobs to tide us over.” I groaned. I thought my days in retail had ended in college. I wasn’t cut out for front-line customer service.

“Why? The company might’ve fucked us over, but we got a decent severance out of it. No need to rush into anything.”

Keaton raised a good point. I did have some in savings, so I supposed I didn’t need to scramble and land an even worse job. I could pretend like we were on a paid vacation for a week or two.Yeah, right. Because my brain is so relaxed.

I stared at the glass holding a mixture of tequila, nearly expired orange juice, and a squirt from the lemon juice bottle in the fridge that we’d resorted to after finishing the limes. It wasn’t good, but it did the job.

I scrolled Instagram and paused on a post from a queer online magazine I’d started following after they did a great story about the Pride celebration in a small Oregon town I had a personal interest in. Dahlia Springs was my forbidden fruit.

“You’re right. We should do something fun,” the tequila made my mouth say. “Oooh, it’s Travel Tuesday. Did you know that was a thing? Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Travel Tuesday. Capitalism is intense.” I shoved my phone in Keaton’s face.

Keaton was the up-for-anything guy in our duo. I was the stick-in-the-mud anxious one whose practicality could be a downer.

“Travel Tuesday, huh? Let’s go on a cruise to somewhere warm for December and forget all our worries. A place where all we’ll need is a suitcase full of speedos, lube, condoms, and sunscreen. We could spend our days sipping drinks with tiny umbrellas.”

Speedos? Absolutely not. Showing that much of my pale skin in the sun? The light would reflect off my body and spark a fire. And trying to relax in a climate where breathing made me sweat wasn’t my idea of a vacation. Not a surprise, though, since Keaton and I never agreed on anything when it came to vacations.

“You know we can’t travel together. It would be terrible, especially if the two of us were trapped on a boat.” I still had nightmares about our last trip together.

“We’re trapped together at home and work every day!”

“Usedto be trapped together at work.”

Keaton winced. “Stilltoo soon.”

Despite being compatible in ways that had kept Keaton and me best friends for over a decade, being travel companions was not among them. We wanted to spend our time and money doing completely different things, and it always ended in both of us being disappointed.

“We could take our own vacations,” he said before taking another swig from the bottle.

I nearly spilled my drink as I straightened from my slump on the couch. An alcohol-fueled idea tumbled from my mouth before my brain had the time to assess all the ways it could go wrong. “We should sendeach otheron vacation as a big Christmas gift. Wouldn’t that be fun? You plan a trip for me, and I plan a trip for you.”What the heck am I saying right now?

Keaton’s dark eyes widened. “A surprise? We book airfare, lodging, and everything for the other person?” I could see the wheels spinning in his brain. “I’ve got an addendum. We send the other with a dare. Something we have to complete during the vacation.”

My brain threw a red flag. Be at someone else’s whim to accomplish some unknown task? No way. I couldn’t handle that. Hmm. But if I agreed, I could dare Keaton tofinallydo the thing he’d been dancing around for years. I could challenge him to start his beauty influencer social media accounts and begin posting content.

Keaton was amazing with makeup and teaching people how to apply it. The product reviews and tutorials he occasionally posted on his personal accounts were great, and he always had a thoughtful rant at the ready about Instagram and TikTok influencers pushing products known to be bad. He got passionate when he talked about wanting to help queer men, enbies, and others find ways to use makeup and skincare to feel good in their bodies.

I’d been encouraging him to make it official, to open accounts and start formally doing videos, but he’d been dragging his feet. I wasn’t sure what was holding him back. He was usually so confident and outgoing, but something about this tripped him up.

“I think I actually like that idea,” I said slowly as my brain worked at warp speed to assess the possibilities and pitfalls.

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