Page 32 of 12 Gays of Christmas

“Well, don’t, unless you want—” Gil starts, and I touch his arm to keep him from going full nuclear on the guy.

“Interesting. Are you going to stop me?” His words are flirty like he really hopes Gil will do it. He leans closer. “Because I’m super okay with you holding me down and putting me in my place with a good pounding.”

I watch Gil, ready to intervene if he decides to pound the guy with his fists. But he slumps down as if all his confidence has been sucked right out. “Go away,” I say to the guy. “We aren’t interested. But the offer is appreciated.”

“Too bad. Maybe another time?”

“Maybe.”

When the guy leaves, Gil sighs. “You can take him up on his offer, Colin. Don’t let me drag you down.”

“What’s going on?”

He shakes his head and leaves the store. I follow him to the bookstore, and we shop for Nat, finally settling on the full set of fantasy novels from her favorite series. As we pay, the guy checking us out is full-on checking Gil out and trying to flirt with him. Gil doesn’t seem to notice. The guy glares at me as if it’s all my fault. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out.

But nothing I say coaxes Gil out of whatever pity party he’s having.

Once we’re back home, Gil goes to his room and shuts his door. I wrap my present to Nat, stewing over my hot but clueless roommate.

Someone knocks on the door. Is it the guy from the mall? Did he follow us here? I answer the door—Remi.

I walk away, leaving the door open, without even saying hello.

“I’m usually the grumpy one,” he says, following me into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

I slam my cup down as I put water on to boil for tea. “Why are you here?”

“What’s wrong, Colin?”

The water doesn’t boil right away, but I can watch it until it does. That isn’t odd, right? “Nothing. And why do you care? We’re enemies. Look it up.”

“We’re more frenemies than enemies.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s right. I’m in a mood. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can you go?”

“No way. Colin getting emotional over a guy? Too good to pass up.” But his words sound more concerned than teasing. And he isn’t bastardizing my name. I don’t want to cry in front of him. Or explain why I’m upset. Mostly because I don’t know. Gil is upset and hiding in his room. Is that why?

“I’m grabbing a soda out of your fridge,” he says when I don’t respond. “And then, you’re going to explain what this tea did to you.”

As soon as I want the water not to boil—how can I explain this to him?—it does. I make my raspberry tea and add honey, taking as long as I can. We finally settle on the couch. I soak up the steam from my tea, trying to relax as Remi studies Gil’s hit list.

“I see there are a few changes to the list. No more jocks?”

I shrug. “Gil has no clue what he wants.”

Remi watches me as I take a tentative sip of tea and sigh in relief at getting that first hit. I love coffee in the morning, but the evening is all about the tea. “I think he knows but isn’t saying.”

Something at the mall triggered Gil’s response. I just don’t know what. “Maybe.”

“So. What’s the tea on the tea? Is it too strong for you?”

I can hear the thumping of music from the apartment above us. On a Tuesday. Really? But finals are over and most have left campus for the holidays. Not everyone in the apartment complex is a college student. Remi isn’t. He works in the funeral home that his parents own, and the expectation is that he will continue the family business after them. Remi also seems to know all my secrets. It’s not good to give your frenemy too much ammo. But Remi is good at reading people. Especially me. “No. It’s just tea.”

“For fuck’s sake, Col, we both know you’re into the tea. Just admit it already. Not to everybody. But to yourself.”

I glance up at his face, which is more serious—worried—than normal. “I’ve accepted my obsession with…this tea. But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”

“Maybe the tea isn’t ready. It might need to steep awhile.”

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