by Cassie Sweet
Drew walked around the living room, one hand on his head. His parents had always been in his corner—too much, at times. He wasn’t going to admit now that he had never gotten over Hill and that he wanted him back in his life full time.
“Can I have the cabin or not? Yes or no will suffice. The lecture I can do without.”
She gave a huff. “Yes, it’s available. How many days do you need it for?”
Drew sighed in relief. “From the twenty-third until the day after Christmas. We’re coming down here for Christmas dinner with Jen.”
“Will we see you for New Year’s?”
“Will you be home by then? I thought you were staying in Florida until after the holidays.”
“No. Your father wants to see you.”
“I’m hoping I have plans for New Year’s Eve, but I’ll be around on New Year’s Day.”
“I’ll tell him. He’ll want to watch the bowl games with you.”
That had been their tradition until he’d moved across the country. The last couple of years they’d texted each other during the games. It wasn’t as good as being in the same room, but it had to do. Drew couldn’t make it home for the holidays and had to work on January second.
“I’ll be there.”
They disconnected, and he went back into the kitchen. “Is it cold?”
“You might want to pop it into the microwave for a minute.”
He did so and stood there waiting for it to ding.
“Well? Is the cabin available?”
He turned, suddenly nervous that his plans weren’t going to work. “Yes. Thank you, God.”
The Holly and the Ivy….
DREW DRAGGED the tree into the living room, leaving pine needles and sap in a trail over the hardwood floor. His mother was going to throw a fit. Pine tar was hard to get off the floors. It looked as if Kong had been in charge of bringing in the tree.
He already had all the supplies to make the decorations. It was hard to resist having everything ready for when Hill walked in, but he had refrained. The fun was going to be making them together as they had that first Christmas as a couple.
Drew placed the tree in the stand and gave it some water. He went back and did his best to clean the floor.
Had the invitation gotten to Hill yet? Just the thought that it had gone astray in the heavy holiday mail or was held up somewhere in a pouch gave him butterflies the size of eagles. His nerves were shot. He was going to be a mess before the damn holiday ever arrived.
And what if Hill didn’t show?
It was a distinct possibility. Hill hadn’t been all that enthusiastic about sharing a meal the other night and in fact hadn’t. The fault for the early end to the evening was Drew’s. He’d pushed when he should’ve persuaded. Damn, but Hill had looked so good. So sad, Drew thought for sure a quick kiss might help to improve his mood. Wrong. This was Hill. He had an ax a mile wide to grind.
Damn, he’d probably be better off if he drove down to Hill’s and picked him up, then dragged his ass back to the cabin. But first things first.
He’d brought the grocery bags in and put the cold stuff away but had left the other stuff in the bags until he’d gotten the tree inside. He started putting the food into the cabinets, trying to go over the menus as he did.
A thought occurred to him: Hill loved to have a drink in the evenings and some cheese and fruit or crackers. How could Drew have forgotten that? He’d have to stop on his way to pick up Hill. Oh yes, he was going to swing by his house and pick him up. Drew wasn’t about to take a chance that Hill would refuse the invitation when so much lay on the line.
Drew rubbed the back of his neck. Cold shimmered in his blood. He was going to open a vein for Hill, and if he didn’t care, what was Drew going to do? Walk away? It had been almost impossible the first time. Doing it a second was going to finish Drew off.
No. He wasn’t going to think like that. Drew would show Hill through actions how much he wanted to try and mend fences.
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas….
HILL TURNED the thick card over and looked at the back. Nothing there. No return address. Just a hand-lettered envelope in a thick antiqued yellow stock with a heavy card, also handwritten. In calligraphy.
You are cordially invited to a private Christmas party—December twenty-third at 4:00 p.m.
7487 Chestnut Lane
Upper Avalon, New Jersey
There was only one person—or rather one family—he knew that owned property in that area, and he had no intention of going there alone with Drew for a party, private or otherwise.
A subtle fragrance came up from the card. Spicy, cedar, Drew. Oh God in heaven. The bastard meant to drive him out of his head by addressing the card and leaving lasting impressions behind. Hill held the card to his nose and took in a deep breath. Seven years and Drew still smelled the same. Still wore that cologne his sister, Stephanie, made for him.
Memories flooded back, sweet and sharp. Tears filled his eyes. He never wanted to go back to that pain again. To live through having his heart ripped out and handed to him like it meant less than nothing. It was love and hate all wrapped up in a horrible package with ragged paper and tattered ribbons. What kind of present was that?
Here, have your heart back. I decided I didn’t want it anyways.
Oh, wait. I changed my mind. I decided I did love you after all. My bad.
He crushed the card in his fist and dropped it in the trash.
The weatherman was calling for a bad storm Christmas Eve anyhow. He’d never be able to make it up there in time and back for dinner with the traitor, Jen.
The Doctor Who theme song blasted from his cell phone. An unknown caller. He only used that particular ringtone to alert him to calls outside his contact list. It wasn’t a local number—Seattle.
Oh, great. Maybe the jackass had gone home.
No, not that easy. Drew probably just had a Seattle number on his cell.
Well, Hill could choose to ignore the call or give the heartbreaker a final good-bye. The noise stopped, taking the decision away from Hill. Then the doorbell rang.
Through the curtains, he saw Drew standing on the porch with fists shoved in his coat pockets, looking like all kinds of sexy hell. Hill ran a hand through his hair and opened the door.
“Have you decided to torture me? Did I do something in a past life to deserve this?”
“Interesting question, but no. I just want to clear the air with you and make amends.”
Hill let out a long breath and opened the door wider. It had gotten bitterly cold overnight. “If I let you in and agree to accept your apology, will you leave me the hell alone for the rest of my life?”
Drew stepped inside. “I can’t promise anything.”
The cold air came in with him. Hill stepped away, trying to shake off the chill. It was useless. This one went down to the bone.
“How soon can you have a bag packed?”
Hill turned at the unexpected question. “Never timed myself. Why?”
Drew gave him a sexy half smile equivalent to a reindeer kick to the gut.
“Always the smartass. I want to be on the road to the cabin in the next half hour.”
“No one’s stopping you, Drew.”
“I want you with me.”
“I thought the invitation mentioned 4:00 p.m.”
Drew moved around the kitchen, his hand resting on a few small appliances that had been in their apartment when they were together. “I figured we’d get an early start. Everything is already up there. It’s warmed and stocked.”
“And decorated.”
“No. I thought we’d do that together, but I did bring a tree in.”
Hill slid his hands down into his jeans pockets to hide the shaking. “That’s taking assumption and elevating it to an art form.”
“No. It’s wishing with all my heart that you’ll join me so we can spend the holidays together.”
Worn down and wanting to move on, Hill turne
d and headed into the bedroom. “If I do this, will you promise to leave me alone from here on out?”
“I’ll promise to take it a day at a time. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance to give you the best Christmas you’ve ever had. If you aren’t completely satisfied by December twenty-sixth, I promise to never darken your door, mailbox, or cell phone again.”
There had to be a catch—other than the obvious one of having to spend the entire holiday alone with Drew. He smelled a rat, and it was wearing Jen’s perfume.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you. Over the past seven years, I’ve learned to hate Christmas.” Hill took sanctuary in the bedroom. He closed the door and leaned against it. He needed his temperature taken because he was definitely out of his mind with fever. What else would possess him to go along with such a disastrous scheme?
Hill grabbed a gym bag from the closet and stuffed in enough clothes for a couple of days. This was undoubtedly the stupidest thing he’d ever agreed to. If he came out of it with a promise of never having to go through anything this traumatic again, it was quite the bargain. So what if his Christmas was ruined—it wasn’t like he enjoyed the season anyhow.
He zipped the bag and picked it up off the bed, then grabbed his keys from the dresser.
Drew remained in the kitchen, thumbing through the rack of cookbooks. “I recognize some of these.”
“I should hope so. You bought them for me.” Hill turned off the overhead light but kept a small one on. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Drew frowned. “Hey, man. Dial back on the enthusiasm a bit.”
Hill didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. What did Drew expect, Hill to bring his tambourine so they could sit by the fire and sing “Kumbaya”? Not going to happen. If Drew wanted enthusiasm, he should’ve picked someone else to harass.
Hill got into the passenger side of Drew’s SUV. “I’m surprised your parents aren’t insisting you spend the holiday with them.”
“They’re in Florida, so we’re getting together to watch the games on New Year’s Day. If you want, you can come along.”
Hill snorted. “Oh, I’m sure they’d love that.”
He’d long suspected Drew’s parents had a hand in the breakup. Not that they cared if their only son was gay—on the contrary, they were very close to Drew—it was because they’d never liked Hill.
To his knowledge, he’d never shown either of Drew’s parents anything but kindness and respect. Kind of funny considering the man he was now, but as a teenager and college student, he’d been rather friendly. But he’d known the parental units had wanted Drew to fall in love with a doctor, lawyer, or some other clichéd professional. Instead he’d hooked up with Hill, who had always been more into history, gaming, and the arts. The small production company he started made television and web commercials for local businesses. It was an interesting and growing market that paid his bills and allowed him to travel when he wanted. It had been a good career so far, but it didn’t contribute to either society or humanity.
A few stray flurries hit the windshield as Drew backed out of the driveway. Hill closed his eyes and prayed that the weather would hold until they got to the cabin. The last thing he wanted to do was become snowbound with his ex-lover. Too many wonderful, hot memories stirred in the air over the gear console. All of the images, tumbling one over another in his mind, of Christmases past with Drew were tainted by the cold he felt at being left behind.
“Why’d you change your mind?”
Drew turned to look at Hill as he started up Route 15. “What?”
Hill had a sneaking suspicion Drew heard him perfectly well. “I asked what changed your mind. About coming back?”
Drew gave a shrug. “I never intended to stay in Seattle forever. It was a temporary move.”
Incredulous, Hill laughed. “You’re shitting me, right? A temporary move is one to three, maybe six months tops. I’ll even give you a year, depending on circumstances. But seven years—no, I’m sorry, that’s a change of heart.”
“People are allowed to change their minds or lives if it’s not working for them.”
Pain speared through Hill. He turned to stare out the window. “So you’ve proved before.”
Drew placed his hand on Hill’s arm. “Oh God. Hill, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Hill held up his hand. This was going to be a disastrous few days. He knew it was going to be a mistake when he’d agreed, but at least now he could look Jen square in the eyes and tell her he’d tried.
“Don’t try to soft sell it now. You left me because we weren’t working any longer. This isn’t a surprise to me anymore. Caught me off guard when you announced you were leaving, but I’ve had the better part of a decade to get used to you being three thousand miles away. It might take me some time to get used to the idea of you living in the same town again.”
The flakes falling got bigger, heavier. The atmosphere in the SUV shrank down to an island inhabited by two people who had no business being in the same place together, let alone in a confined space.
Hill would get through this, and he’d never have to do it again. Drew would come to the conclusion that they still didn’t work as a couple and go find someone else to fill his bed. Hill’s gaze slid to that damning ring on Drew’s finger. What was he thinking? Drew probably already had someone. He was just trying to apologize for leaving so abruptly back then. Hill decided to cut Drew a bit of slack.
“We could’ve just left this at I’m sorry. You didn’t have to come up with some elaborate plan to apologize.”
Drew frowned from the driver’s seat. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but I’m not sorry I left.”
Figures.
Hill gave a grunt that meant he understood the distinction. He didn’t have to like it—matter of fact he hated it, but he knew what Drew meant. He’d been glad to leave Hill behind and explore new horizons. Fine. Hill understood the need to change and grow, but he didn’t understand the need to hurt someone in order to achieve that goal, which brought him back around to the fact Drew hadn’t loved him. Maybe he had at one time, but he’d obviously fallen out of love, and instead of admitting it, he’d simply decided to leave, claiming it was a career choice.
Call dog crap a rose and it still smelled like shit.
Might as well strike back while he still had ammunition. “You know this entire holiday is going to be pointless for you? You’ll get me alone in the cabin, I’ll be my same sarcastic, grumbly self, and you’ll wish to God you’d stayed away. As a matter of fact, I predict that by Christmas Eve, you’re telling me you’ve made a mistake and we should just try to ignore each other’s existence.”
“I don’t think you’re giving yourself or me enough credit. We were always good together.”
“Says the man who walked away.”
“Well, some parts were better than others.”
Curiosity burned through Hill to ask exactly what it was that Drew hadn’t liked about them as a couple, but he decided his heart really couldn’t take it. Not in so close a proximity to the one who had made him feel as if he were yesterday’s garbage.
May All Your Christmases Be White….
THE WEATHERMAN lied.
Halfway up Route 94 the snow started coming down so hard they couldn’t see the road in front of them or anything behind. Drew put the SUV in low gear and turned on his hazard lights.
“Wow. This is bad.”
Hill rubbed fog off the passenger window. “Was this your plan, get us stuck in the middle of a snowstorm so the state police or National Guard has to come along and rescue us?”
“No. I wanted to get you alone in the cabin and have my wicked way with you.” Drew ducked his head to try to see over the snow accumulating on the windshield. The wipers had no hope of keeping up with the fall.
Laughter, full, rich, and deep, came from the passenger side. Drew risked a glance at Hill. God, he’d missed that sound. He breathed it in greedily, afraid it was all an auditory halluc
ination caused by the stress of driving in a blizzard with Hill.
“You think that’s funny?”
Hill shook his head. “Hilarious.”
“Glad I could crack you up.”
“Well, come on, think about it. You went all the way to Seattle to get away from me. I doubt having your wicked way with me even enters the picture anymore.”
“What about that kiss under the mistletoe the other day? You can’t say that wasn’t hot.” Just the memory had Drew’s heart beating double time.
Hill waved his hand in the air, dismissing the experience. “A punishment for not giving in to you sooner.”
“Is that what you think?”
A snow-covered blue sign was barely visible on the side of the road. Oh shit.
“Hill, did that sign say Welcome to Pennsylvania?”
Hill’s face went white. “I wasn’t aware 94 ran into Pennsylvania.”
“It doesn’t. It becomes 611. It also means somehow we’ve gotten turned around and are heading in the wrong direction.” Drew pulled over to the side of the road and plugged the cabin’s address into GPS.
“Calculating.”
“Why didn’t you use that before?”
Drew raised a brow at Hill. “Because I’ve been up to the cabin a thousand times and don’t need GPS to find it.”
“Well, apparently you do.”
“It’s this storm. It’s horrible. I can’t see anything.”
Hill let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh. “Then find a hotel and pull over. We’ll stay there until the storm blows over and go to the cabin in the morning.”
Drew’s mouth went dry at the thought. It did have merit, though. Better to actually live to win Hill back than to die in a blizzard on bad Jersey roads. “Sounds like a plan, but let’s turn this buggy around and get heading in the right direction first.”
He made the maneuver as slow and safe as possible under the hazardous conditions. Even the four-wheel drive tried to slip and slide from the coating of ice underneath.
“It’s getting worse the longer we’re out here,” Drew observed. Even the inside of the windshield had started to fog.