Page 25 of 12 Gays of Christmas

“No. I mean. Maybe a little.” I grab a marker just to have something in my hand. “I love history. And art. I mean, you know that. But even as a kid, I would read everything I could get my hands on. I wasn’t huge in middle school, but I was bigger than all the other kids, and I think people made assumptions because of that. One day in science class, I was sitting at my desk, and we had a few minutes, so I was reading.”

“What book was it?”

“The House of Medici: Its Rise and Fallby Christopher Hibbert.”

He whistled. “That’s impressive.”

“My science teacher slammed the book shut and, in front of all the other kids, told me to stop trying to look smart since there was no way I was reading that book.” Colin puts his hand over mine and rescues the marker I’ve been gripping way too tight. Then he squeezes my arm, encouraging me to continue. “It was just easier after that to let people believe what they wanted. I was good at football, so that’s what I did.”

“But you’re also good at history, Gil.” Both of his hands are on my arm now, but for once, I’m focused less on that and more on the way he’s looking at me. As if I’m worth something. Something more than winning football games. “You’re honestly good at everything.”

“Not science.”

He laughs. “Maybe not, but you like statistics. The point is you need to let people see the real you. And date guys you’re interested in. Not just attracted to. Let’s redo the list.”

I nod, and he goes to the chalkboard and erases the last seven guys. He raises his eyebrow at me.

“How about a guy who likes history?”

He beams at me, and I try to ignore how good that makes me feel. “Another one?” he asks, writing downHunky History Geek.

I laugh. “I love music, so maybe a guy who’s into the classics?”

Once I’m thinking about it, I’m able to come up with guys to add to the list.

“Next?”

“Okay. Um…” I rub the back of my neck and avoid his gaze. “Art lover with a bubble butt?”

“That’s way too specific to not be someone you know,” he says, gesturing helplessly. “So why don’t we just put his name?”

“No. No names. That—” I don’t finish. It just makes it too real and the rejection too much.

“Fine.” He waves a hand at me and adds him to the list. “Next?”

My neck heats up. “Sassy kicker on the football team?” Colin’s mouth opens, and I quickly add, “Who’s also on the dean’s list?”

His eyes narrow into tiny slits of disapproval. “I thought teammates were off limits.”

“Kickers are the exception.” And the no-teammate-hookup rule has been officially thrown out because my dick is tired of not getting any action. And our kicker is hot.

“Oh. My. God,” Colin mutters, but he adds it.

We get to the end of the list, and for a hot second, I think about saying sweet and sexy nerdy roommate, but I don’t. I’m not ready for that level of rejection.

Colin lets out a frustrated sigh. “What about that cute librarian who flirts with you all the time?”

I haven’t added Darcy because—why? I don’t want him to reject me. But isn’t this about taking chances? I can’t destroy my friendship with Colin with my neediness, but I can put myself out there for Darcy. I nod, and Colin adds him to the list—careful not to actually put his name. The last one, I get a little brave. “I’m going to give science a chance,” I say, taking the chalk from Colin and writingHot Science Guy.

He stares at it, and then he turns and walks into the kitchen. Did I go too far?

The list still seems daunting. “What am I going to do about tonight’s date? There’s hardly anyone left on campus.”

“Don’t worry,” Colin says, leaning against the counter as he drinks from a bottle of water. “I have an idea.”

And that’s how I end up at the Stafford County History Museum, picking up guys with Colin.

And Remi.

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