Page 3 of 12 Gays of Christmas

I have no choice.

I breathe through my nose and out my mouth. Cleansing breaths that my yoga instructor taught me. Yes. I do yoga. “The opposite of that,” I say, steeling myself. “No sex. No experiences.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m still a virgin.”

* * *

COLIN

“No fucking way.” It’s the wrong thing to say, but I can’t help it. This makes no sense. Gil is a wide receiver for the Annelon Springs University Redbirds. He made three out of the four touchdowns in last week’s game against Kansas State. He’s a hero. Along with our quarterback, Steph Bishop. They’re easily the most popular guys in school. And more than that, the guy is hot as fuck. He comes home late all the time after being out with the guys on the team. Or out with his best friend, Steph. I figured Gil was busy partying and getting laid. I’m good at analyzing things, but this…doesn’t compute. Part of me is thrilled with the idea of Gil still being a virgin. But that part can shut the fuck up.

“Whatever, Colin.” Gil turns to leave. Again. I grab his arms because I like to torture myself and stare up—way up—into his hazel eyes that have little flecks of gold in them.Jesus.

“I’m sorry. You just surprised me.” I squeeze his shoulder. “This is an insane plan.”

He steps out of my grasp, and his jaw tightens. “I’ve looked at it from every angle. I’m already learning a lot.”

“Love isn’t a math problem. You can’t figure it out with a calculator.”

Gil sighs. He’s so expressive. Never afraid to show what he’s feeling. At least not to me. “I don’t believe in love at first sight.”

“You don’t?” Why does that bother me?

“No.” He stares at the chalkboard. “Which means I need to find a guy I’m compatible with. Attracted to. Then the love will hopefully come later, after I get to know him.”

“And you think the best way to do that is to run down a list of guys—”

“Types of guys.”

“Types of guys, hoping to get the right one. There are apps for that.”

“I don’t—” Gil shifts on his feet. He’s tanned, so he doesn’t blush easily. But I can almost detect a flush of pink in his cheeks. Maybe if I stare for a few minutes longer, I can be sure. “I don’t know what kind of guy I like. How else am I going to find out?”

I open my mouth and then shut it again. This goes on a few times. I just can’t get my brain or my mouth to work.

“What?” He folds his arms across his massive chest.

“Gil,” I finally say with a short laugh, “the fact that you’re even asking that question tells me this is a bad idea.”

“What? Why?” He frowns.

“These guys are going to eat you alive—”

“Isn’t that the point?”

I scream, causing him to jump back a step. “Most guys watch porn, Gil. They don’t design a list to check off like ordering takeout from Jimmy Johns.”

He’s definitely blushing now. The color is dark on his skin. “I tried. It was awkward. I felt—” He shakes his head furiously as if he regrets saying anything.

“Gil…” This sweet, at times awkward guy who defies expectations is so damn adorable. I want to hug him. And maybe never let go. I push that kind of thinking back,wayback.

“Fuck off.”

“Hold on, Gil—”

“No. F—heck off.”

I laugh, grabbing his arm before he can leave the room. “I’m sorry. Don’t go.”

“This is my problem, not yours.” He stares at the board. There are twelve types of guys listed. One crossed off. And eleven days left until Christmas. Is he going to go through one dude a night? “Study for your test. I’ll figure it out.”

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