Page 2 of Merry Little Christmas
“Remember your manners, Bentley,” Jesse scolded.
“Sorry…” Blushing, the boy shrank back in his seat. He seemed to be in the exact state I was: hovering frustratingly on the edge of Little space. “Can I have the Pua one, please?”
I happily handed it over, sitting down with myBlue’s Cluesone. While Jesse opened Bentley’s the boy directed his attention to Cole. “So, you’re Da–Jesse’s best friend.”
“That’s right. Since we were thirteen.”
It was my turn next. “And you’re his sibling?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Watch it, Peyton.”
“You’re notmyDaddy,” I teased, shifting in my seat. I was going to pay for it later, but the look on my brother’s face was worth it.
“How did the two of you end up together?”
Cole and I shared a look, fond memories rushing back to the surface. “You start,” Cole told me, picking up his whiskey. “I’ll jump in.”
I made myself comfortable as we began to eat. “Well, it all started with the flu.”
“The flu?” Bentley giggled, brows furrowing.
“Yes, the flu. Just stick with me here…”
Chapter Two
Cole
One Year Earlier
“Guys,how many times do I have to tell you?—”
My words died in my throat as my back hit the wall. My best friend and his younger sibling were the only two who couldeverget the upper hand on me.
And allowing Jesse to do so was a case by case basis.
The two barged into my house like they owned the place. Frankly, they might as well have. The three of us had been so tight knit for so long that we were practically inseparable.
Peyton, Jesse’s sibling, threw a bratty grin over their shoulder, and I folded. Damn it, they knew my weaknesses.
Begrudgingly, I let the McKauleys barge their way into my kitchen and decorate the table with various bottles of liquor.
It was my thirty-fifth birthday and despite my protests against celebrating, those two weren’t having it.
It had nothing to do with the number, and everything to do with the fact that I hated my own birthday. The date fell smack in the middle of two major holidays. As a child, people were tooswept up in Thanksgiving recover and Christmas prep to celebrate. Not that I minded. The only two people I ever needed were standing right in my kitchen.
Jesse had been my best friend since we were thirteen years old. A nasty divorce had split him and Peyton up when they were kids, and Peyton moved to Georgia with their dad, while Jesse stayed with their mom in Kentucky. A few years in, I started going with him to spend summers in Georgia, and that was when I fell in love with Peyton.
They didn’t let being younger or smaller prevent them from keeping up with us. Wherever we were, Peyton wasn’t far behind. They and Jesse were as close as siblings could be, and it never bothered me that every summer or school break, our duo would become a trio.
Peyton was shy and timid on the surface but once you unveiled the brat within, they were a total spitfire. Being queer in a small town, they had to be.
Only today, that fire had dimmed slightly. As Peyton took their seat at the table and Jesse placed a spiced rum and coke in front of them—their favorite—they paled, even more than they already were. The usual wash of pink over their cheeks was missing, the twinkle in their brown eyes having vanished—then they rubbed their stomach. “You feeling okay, Peyton?”
“Fine,” they lied, as I suspected they would. “Just tired.” They shoved a bottle of whiskey in my direction. “Drink up, birthday boy.”
The bottle vanished from view and an arm wrapped around my throat. I choked as a hand forced my mouth open and warm amber liquid poured into my mouth. I had two options: swallow, or drown.
