Page 30 of Havoc for the Holidays

“I do. It's important to you, so it's important to me. You're important to me.” I leaned in and pecked his lips. “I'll likely regret every second of my dick on display for the town to talk about, but I'll perform with you.”

“Wait… the problem was the costume?”

“Chiefly, yes. Among other things.”

“Oh, baby… that’s an easy fix.” Ez eased to his back and pulled me with him. “I'm excited to dance with you.”

“I'm excited to be with you.” We exchanged playful kisses and somehow ended up with him back on top of me by the time we pulled apart again.

“Thank you, Ollie. Thank you for giving us a chance.”

“It should be me thanking you for not giving up on me.” I laced my arms around his waist and held him tight. “I'm a bit of a hot mess.”

“You're just the right kind of messy for me, though.” His lips blanketed mine as we resumed a languid, lingering kiss andthat was how we spent the rest of the night—with a lot of kissing, even more touching, quiet talking, and a whole bunch of exploration of one another's bodies. And for once, I didn't feel a single ounce of shame or humiliation. I felt loved for exactly who I was, just as I was. It was the best Christmas gift I'd ever received in my life.

Chapter eighteen

Ezechiel

It was finally showtime. We were absolutely not ready. There was nothing I could do about that fact, either. Ergo, I stopped stressing and resorted to the one thing that had gotten me into dancing in the first place—I decided to have fun. After all, everyone else was having fun. I figured I might as well have some too.

The venue was an absolute fever dream of holiday excess. After the townspeople overheard my stress about the success of the show, they came out in full force to be as helpfulas possible in the form of donating decorations. The once austere interior of the reclaimed church was so overstuffed with decorations, I could only pray that the fire marshal wouldn't decide to attend tonight. Not counting the massive Christmas tree prop commanding center stage, there were six additional trees erected around the circumference of the audience space, each one so overburdened by ornaments, I swore I could hear the boughs groaning in protest.

In addition to the copious evergreens, there was a spider web of holiday lights suspended from the ceiling in an acid-trip inducing array of blinking colors. The veritable handfuls of tinsel added to the network of lights was mind boggling. I'd honestly never seen so much tinsel in one place. The fact that it kept slipping free to flutter to the ground was admittedly quite magical, even if the end result was that the entire cast now wore metallic embellishments in their hair.

The hair and makeup was another instance of why it was best I simply threw my hands up and enjoyed the night for what it was. When Ollie had volunteered his mother’s services, he neglected to inform me that the woman had no skill in either department. What she lacked in skills, she made up for with excess. Never had I ever encountered so many children with beehive hairstyles held in place by enough hairspray to make the tresses glossy. It proved an excellent adhesive for the accidental tinsel adornments.

As if that weren't avant-garde enough for the occasion, Ollie’s mother was apparently a fan of makeup from the eighties. Every time I turned around, another dancer appeared in heavy eyeshadow ranging from neon pink to electric blue with a strong presence of mandarin orange. The unnaturally heavy application of bright fuchsia blush was achoice. As was the glitter. I loved it too much to put into words. It wouldn't surprise me if someoneassumed we were dancing a rendition of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

“Ezechiel, let me freshen up your contour.” Ollie's mother appeared with a makeup brush and a palette that contained zero contouring colors. I gleefully let her assault me with the rainbow.

“Thank you, Mrs. Branson.”

She flounced the tip of my nose with her brush as she gave me a warm smile. “None of that Mrs. nonsense. Mom or Megan.”

“Understood. Have you seen Olls?” I turned my face to make it easier for her to apply more unnecessary color to my skin.

“Hyperventilating in the restroom. It's what he does.” She winked and stepped back. “There! Perfect. No wonder Ollie’s so smitten. You're just about the most handsome man I ever did see.”

“I heard that.” A gruff voice drew our attention to the side as Ollie’s father appeared from the crowd of screaming children in tinsel and tulle.

“Oh, don't be sensitive.” Megan swatted at her husband with the brush before shifting closer to kiss his cheek. They were an adorable couple. I loved them the instant they walked into Ollie’s apartment unannounced two days earlier. His father Matthew was the source of Ollie and Becs’ fiery red hair, but the curls came from Megan. They took my presence on the family couch in stride and invited themselves to finish watching the Hallmark Christmas movie we'd been watching. Since that moment, I'd simply become an extension of their son, and the recipient of their smothering love as a result.

“You two go find your seats. I have to get this mob backstage before someone trips on a tree trimming.” I kissed Molly’s cheek and exchanged a bear hug with Matthew.

“Already happened. Doc set up a first aid station in the supply closet.” Matthew winked as he stepped back. “Break a leg, boy.”

I tilted my head and then laughed and shrugged it off. The entire night was chaos, so it didn't surprise me that there was a need for a first aid station. I was grateful for the town doctor’s forethought.

It took nearly fifteen minutes to get all the performers backstage, but I quickly gave up trying to get them to be quiet. I searched the crowd, but still no Ollie. A gentle hand landed on my lower back as my mother appeared with her telepathic ability to come when I needed her most. I was so glad her headache had subsided enough that she could attend tonight. Even as a fully grown adult, it always tickled me pink when my mom could see me perform.

“You have your fretful face on, Ez.”

“I haven't seen Ollie.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Feeling okay?”

“I am. And I was just with Ollie. The poor thing sweated and wept all his makeup off. I got him fixed up. No more fretful face. He’ll be here.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, side-eyeing the exit near the bathroom. “I feel bad.”

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