Page 7 of 12 Gays of Christmas

“Can we focus?” I ask, glaring at him.

“On your addiction to sweets?”

Why do I let him get to me? Normally, nothing fazes me. But Gil can rile me up faster than anyone. I tug my hair, undoing the style I’ve worked on for the last thirty minutes. And why I’m styling my hair when it’s just Gil and me here isn’t a question I’m willing to examine too closely.

An hour later, I’m sitting in a booth alone at Toni’s Pizza Parlor a block from campus, and I’m glad I took the extra time. If I scoot over an inch or crane my neck just right, I can see Gil and Mr. Gym Rat, also known as Ray. I don’t like the guy. I don’t have a good reason, but I don’t need one.

College students are crammed into every booth and empty chair, making me feel a little guilty for taking up an entire booth by myself. The last day of finals is tomorrow, and everyone on campus seems to be blowing off steam. The murmur of voices mixes with classic rock to give the place a retro party vibe. I don’t want to party, retro or otherwise. I want to study for my statistics final so I’ll be ready. But if I did want to unwind, I’d binge the new season ofThe Umbrella Academy. I wouldn’t be sitting in a pizza parlor watching my roommate on a date because he is determined to get laid by Christmas. This night, in fact, might be my worst nightmare. Hanging out in a place filled with popular people who have a life. It isn’t because I care at all if Gil has sex with someone else—or just someone. He’s a good roommate. I don’t want to lose him.

As a roommate.

Very convincing, Colin.

I focus on Ray. He’s grinning and nodding his head as he stuffs food into his mouth. Gil is facing away from me, so I can only see one arm as he waves it expressively. This is a bad idea on so many levels. I dig my phone out of my back pocket and message him. If his date is going fine, I’ll just leave. He doesn’t need me.

But he doesn’t answer. After ten minutes of stabbing my salad—my stomach would rebel if I ate pizza two days in a row—I decide to give him a few more minutes, and then I’m leaving. I sip my soda and stir the ice with my straw.

“Hey.” Gil slips into the booth opposite me, scooching over until his shoulder bumps against the wall.

“What are you doing?” I sneak a peek at Ray. He’s shoveling more food in his mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t text you back.”

“So you decided to make a personal appearance?”

He shrugs one shoulder, and I refuse to find it cute. “All he wants to talk about is the football game on Saturday. Or going to the gym. I tried to steer the conversation to something else.” He waves his hands in exasperation. “That dude has a one-track mind.”

I snort at that. I saw the way he was looking at Gil. There was definitely something else on his mind. But I decide not to state the obvious. “Did you ask about his family? Siblings?”

“He’s an only child.”

“Parents?”

“I was afraid he would start talking about his mom.”

I laugh. “Okay, fair. Hobbies? Movies? Music?”

He sighs dramatically, and I bite back a smile. “His hobbies are sports. The movies he watches are about sports. He likescountry music.” He says the words like it’s the biggest sin of all.

I try a different tactic. “What do you like about this guy?”

He taps his finger against his chin. “He’s hot. And he likes football. But I can only take so much jock talk.”

I lean forward, my hands clasped together on the table. “Gil, I think you have your answer. It’s not a failure if you aren’t interested in the guy. You just move on.”

He shakes his head as he stares at the table. “This is hopeless.”

Gil has the longest lashes I’ve ever seen on a guy. How is that fair? It makes him seem vulnerable, and I hate how much I want to protect him from guys like Ray.

But he can take care of himself. He doesn’t need me. I resist the urge to touch his hand and tell him he’ll find the right guy. How could he not? He’s irritating as shit but also gorgeous and impossibly perfect. For a jock. “Gil?”

He glances up. “Yeah?”

“What does Ray think you’re doing right now?”

“Using the restroom.”

This time, I don’t hold back my smile. “Well, you’re taking a while, and that usually means—”

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