Page 23 of Mr. Frosty Pants
What if this was exactly right? The two of them together. A couple. It could be athing. They could happen. His entire future opened up in front of him with a brightness he hadn’t imagined possible. His heart flew, his blood rushed, and he pushed the gas pedal down harder.
Ann would say not to get his hopes up. Joel was skittish on a good day, and with his boundaries being tested, he was sure to push back against this amazing, perfect, gorgeous thing that could happen between them. It was his nature.
And yet Casey couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited. About anything. Kissing Joel had supplanted every moment he’d previously deemed “best” in his life.
He screamed out his window again. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself. But it was too late. He wanted Joel. And Joel wanted him in return. And it was Christmastime.
They both deserved a miracle.
Chapter Eight
“Casey Stevens kissedme.”
The nine-story tower of the nursing home loomed over where Joel had parked the truck in the gloom of a tall beech tree still clutching some frail, bleached-brown leaves. He adjusted the heating vent and waited for Becca’s reaction to this improbable news.
“Wait,what?” Becca spoke loudly into the phone. In the background, Joel heard women’s voices, hairdryers, running water, and a door chime. “Hold on. I need to go somewhere quiet. I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Joel pictured Becca strolling past her fellow stylists’ flying scissors as they sculpted beauty out of birds’ nests. He knew she’d be reeking, as always these days, of some new line of expensive hair products and made up in lip and eye colors like a fever-dream. He loved that about her. Becca was beautiful and wild at heart. Something he envied more and more every year.
He wondered if she was also wearing one of her trademark dresses with the sweetheart neckline that revealed the giant Korean magpie tattoo on her chest, a nod to her biological family’s roots. He rubbed his arm where his upside-down heart was inked, remembering how they’d gripped each other’s hands from adjacent tattoo chairs, enduring the pain.
“Heading outside for my break,” she said to someone in the store, and then there was the door chime again, followed by a cessation of salon noise and a burst of traffic sounds. “Okay, I can talk.” She sounded breathless. “What did you say when I picked up? I think I hallucinated or something.”
Joel let out a shaky laugh. Half the reason he’d called her was to prove to himself he hadn’t hallucinated the kiss either. Because if he told another person, it had to be real. “Casey Stevens kissed me.”
“What?” she gasped. “I don’t understand.OurCasey Stevens?”
“I don’t recall us owning him, but yeah.”
“I thought he was—wait, you said—okay, hold up. He’s supposed to be in New York.”
“Home for the holidays.” A leaf flittered down from the beech tree and landed in the parking lot.
“Wow. Holy shit. Tell me the whole story. Beginning to end. And start now because I only have a fifteen-minute break, and I don’t have time to pull the truth out of your snarling face.”
Still shaking with disbelief, Joel told Becca about Casey’s visit to Vreeland’s the night before and how he’d showed up at the trailer that morning. And then he told her about the kiss, glossing over most of the conversation that led up to it.
She whistled. “Well, hot damn, our Casey is all grown up.”
“He’s twenty-two. The same as you and me.”
“With smooth moves. And soft lips.Andyou said he put his fingers on your chin to hold you steady. Swoon!” A car honked in the background on her end.
Joel chuckled. She was right. His trembling knees and racing heart told the whole swoony story.
“Do you have to work today?” she asked. “I’ve got a light load this morning. Want to come over and tell me more in person? Strategize about how you’re going to get into his pants?”
Joel left aside the question of whether he even wanted in Casey’s pants and glanced at the clock on his car dash. His dad’s Egg McMuffin cooled in the bag next to him in the passenger seat. “Sorry. Wish I could, but I’ve gotta go into the store, make up to Angel for last night, and get everything set up for Brandon’s return. And right now…” He glanced at the clock in his car dash. The sweet giddiness in his gut soured. “I have to go in and see Pop.”
“Ah. Right. McMuffin time.” She clucked her tongue to chide him. “You’re gonna be late. It’s past nine. Better hustle.”
Joel didn’t say goodbye, though. “He’s bringing lunch to me today at Vreeland’s.”
“Your pop?”
“No. Casey, duh.”
“Oh my gosh. He’s courting!” She laughed, and he could just imagine her leaning against the painted concrete blocks at the back of Salon Bohème, her eyes crinkling up with her smile. “Sounds like we don’t need to strategize at all. He’s got his aim set on your cute bubble butt.Someonewon’t be a virgin for long!”
