Page 110 of Must Love Christmas

“Neither did you. When I took ill, you had to step up, and you did. You went so far above and beyond the call of duty, and I know it was hard, but—”

“It was easy.” No, that wasn’t quite true. “Not exactly easy, just…automatic. I did those things without thinking twice, because I cared about you.”

“I know. You told me a few days ago that I take you out of yourself.”

“But I always come back to me, don’t I? Because I’m selfish.”

Simon aimed the blowtorch at him from across the room. “I thought you agreed not to run yourself down during this conversation.”

“I forgot. Of course.” Garen pressed his temples between his palms. “Why can’t things just stay inside my brain?”

“Right. I’m coming over.” Simon stood up and grasped his walking frame. “When I get to the couch, I’m going to sit beside you and hold your hand, maybe even kiss you.” He began his journey, wheels squeaking. “I’m giving you plenty of warning so you can run away.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” Simon kept coming, at a slow and steady pace. “Go if you want. I can’t stop you, and I can’t catch you.”

Garen shifted over on the couch, uncertain whether it was to make space for Simon or to put himself closer to the door.

“And now I’m going to keep talking,” Simon said, “to fill this awkward silence as I cross the room.” Squeak. Shuffle. Shuffle. Squeak. “You take me out of myself, too. I never know from one moment to the next what you’re gonna do or say.”

“Is that a good—”

“But I do know that it’ll make me laugh, or turn me on, or make me look at the world in a brand-new way—probably all three at once.” He was nearly at the couch now. “You’re exactly the person I need in my life, Garen. And yes, I fucking need you and I’m not afraid to admit it. Well, maybe a little bit afraid. Or a lot terrified. Anyway, you’re worth it.”

As Garen gazed up at Simon, his instinct to flee melted away. All he wanted now was to get closer, and closer still.

Simon sank down onto the couch, slightly out of breath. “Just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been afraid to ask, but…sometimes I prefer to sleep alone in my bed. It’s nothing personal, I just—”

“Oh my God, me too!” Garen put a hand to his own chest. “That’s such a relief.”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“I didn’t want to hurtyourfeelings.” Garen sighed, his pulse still pounding from their near-breakup. “I guess we’re not total opposites.”

Simon reached for the jotter and pen on the side table. “Shall we make a schedule, then? Maybe alternate nights in your bed, then my bed, then each of us sleeps in our own on the third night?”

Garen stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

Simon looked at the pen in his hand. “Erm…”

“I mean, we could do that if you want. Or maybe one week we could have a schedule, and the next week we could play each night by ear and be spontaneous.”

“Right. Or…whatever.”

Garen lifted his hand. “You mentioned something about holding this?”

Simon did.

“And kissing me?” Garen added.

Simon did.

Garen molded his body against Simon’s, craving his warmth. He curled a leg up over Simon’s lap, so that when their mouths finally parted, the rest of them stayed securely connected.

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