Page 59 of 12 Gays of Christmas

“Stop being an ass.” Colin grabs his coat. “Are you here to congratulate us or wish us a safe journey…?”

“No. What the fuck.”

“Then go away.”

“No. I need your help.”

I stare at him. “Remi, dammit. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re going on a trip.”

“It’s only three hours away. Stop being dramatic.”

“I’m the one being dramatic?” I say, looking over at Colin for help. He just laughs.

“This won’t take up too much of your precious time. And I’d like to remind you of everything I did to help you. I have it all written down.” He starts searching in his bag, and I sigh.

“Fine. What do you want?”

Instead of answering, he shifts from foot to foot and crosses and uncrosses his arms. I’m about to yell at him to get on with it when he lets out a frustrated breath and reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a small box about the size of a softball.

“What is it?” I ask, trying to remember where I’ve seen it before. It looks familiar.

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t open it?” Colin asks, his brows scrunched together.

“No. I thought I might need an audience. Or witnesses.”

“Is it a bomb?”

“It’s a present, dumbass.”

“From?” Why is he being so evasive?

“I don’t know. The note wasn’t exactly clear.”

“Let me see it.” Colin holds out his hand, but Remi backs up. “Remi. Do you want our help or not?”

“I’m not sure now,” he says, sounding sincere like he doesn’t have a clue what to do. All my frustration drains away. I’ve never seen Remi unsure.

He sighs, puts the gift on the breakfast bar, and hands a small letter to Colin. The edges on one side of the paper are uneven.

“Remington, I do not admire you. Not even a little.” Colin raises an eyebrow, but Remi just waves for him to continue. “You’re solemn. Sarcastic. And you try too damn hard. Would it kill you to wear some color now and then? And yet, there are times when you come to life, and I see the passion you desperately try to tamp down. But the most egregious offense you’ve committed is getting under my skin. I hate admitting that, but this letter makes it obvious. This is what I’m reduced to. Writing anti-love letters and wanting you to have my things like some hormone-driven teen. My goal, in case you’re wondering, is to exorcise you from my mind. To get some peace, especially at night when I can only see your golden eyes burning into me. Just know that this obsession with you has made my life a living nightmare. And a bit more interesting. Yours, ~ T.”

“Well, heck. That’s kind of sweet.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gil.”

“Open the gift,” Colin says, pointing to the box.

Remi drops onto the stool and stares at the gift.

“It was under the tree.”

“What?” Remi frowns.

“That present was under the tree at Roxy and Steph’s. The paper was different from all the rest.” I squint at the tiny design. “Are those bones? Like something you’d use for a pet.”

“I’m no one’s pet.”

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