Page 72 of Mr. Frosty Pants
“And we’re monogamous.” He hoped.
Ashton’s eyes twinkled as he shrugged. “I understand, and I guess it didn’t hurt to try. Angel did seem overly optimistic about my chances with you.” Ashton laughed. “Oh well, there’s always Grindr. There’s more than one way to lure in a man to solve my problem.”
Grindr? For a date to a family Christmas party? That seemed chancey. And why did a guy as handsome as Ashton need Grindr or help getting a date anyway? He supposed he’d never know. “Couldn’t you go alone?”
“My grandma is a total homophobe. This is going to be my last Hudson family party ever because I’m coming out to them all tonight. I’m going for massive emotional explosions. I need someone to go with me who’d be willing to put on a good show. If you know what I mean?”
“And Angel thoughtIwas that guy?”
“She said you have enough grit to survive the family meltdown when I show up with a man on my arm.”
Maybe Angel was settinghimup for the prank, not Ashton. “Yeah, well, sorry. I hope you find someone.”
“Me too. I want to see my Grandma’s head spin around as Bible verses spew out of her mouth.”
Joel coughed. “You and Angel have a lot in common. Sure you’re stepsiblings?”
“Absolutely sure. But she and I get along great.”
“I see why.”
Ashton smiled prettily. “Well, thanks for even entertaining the idea. You don’t have any queer friends that might be up for scandalizing old ladies on short notice?”
“Sorry. I’m not much for friends.”
Ashton laughed like Joel was joking. “If you fall out of love or find it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, give me a call.” Ashton pushed a card into Joel’s hand. “I’m always up for a quick pull and suck. Or more. I’m easy like that.”
Then the most handsome man Joel had ever seen in his life swept by him like some kind of six-foot-tall Christmas fairy from a story. Joel shook his head, returned to his quest to find coffee, and considered Ashton’s proposition.
He wasn’t the least bit tempted. If he was going to cause drama at any Christmas party tonight, it was going to be at Casey’s folks’ party.
And he’d need a decent tie and shoes.
Jesus, he was insane for even considering it. Wasn’t he?
He wondered if he still had shoe polish in one of the unpacked boxes from the old house. It’d be in the one marked for the contents of his father’s closet. There’d be ties in there too. Decent-looking ones, and he had a clean, white button-up and a navy sports jacket he kept ironed in the closet in case he needed to attend a funeral.
Would Casey’s mother’s head spin when he showed up? And what, if not Bible verses, might spill from her mouth? How did a meltdown look on Casey’s class-obsessed father?
Maybe it was time to find out.
Chapter Twenty
Sneaking into thekitchen and away from his parents’ newly arrived party guests, Casey checked his phone again. He hadn’t heard back from Joel since their last text exchange around five-thirty, and he worried that in Casey’s absence Joel might be getting cold feet about their relationship—or whatever they had now. It made him twitchy.
His father had hired a trio of classical guitarists from the university’s music program to play from the broad upstairs balcony over the living room. The upbeat, plucky carols, no doubt chosen by his mother for the evening, pattered over the guests, smoothing over the clinking glasses and bursts of laughter like a waterfall of Christmas joy.
Normally Casey would have enjoyed the infectious spirit of the party, but his phone remained stubbornly still. He read over their text exchanges from the day, trying to see if he’d inadvertently said something to piss Joel off.
Around noon, after watching Courtney try on fifty-nine thousand pairs of shoes, he’d texted Joel with:I already miss you.
You’ll be okay. You’re a big boy.
He’d manfully restrained himself from making a joke about how Joel was gonna feel just how big he really was before too long if he kept begging to get fucked. Instead he’d said:I’m out with Aunt Courtney. She thinks we’re a couple.
Cool.
Really? You’re okay with that?
