The Stockings Were Hung

by Cassie Sweet

  Hill couldn’t help but give Drew a reluctant smile. “I never said I’m giving you anything. You said you wanted to give me a perfect holiday. I haven’t seen even the first glimmer of that yet.”

  “You’re going to blame the weather on me?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Drew quit talking for a few minutes. They watched the movie in silence.

  A Scrooge, reborn, danced around his broken-down house, happy just to be alive and out of the clutches of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

  “When you do decide, will you let me know?”

  Hill watched Scrooge take gifts to Bob Cratchit’s house. If it only were that easy to forgive and forget. But it wasn’t. Rejection burned and boiled in the gut like the worst kind of acid reflux.

  Hill set his plate aside.

  Drew raised a brow. “Not hungry?”

  Hill rubbed his knee, taking the coward’s way out. “My knee hurts.”

  “I can make a snow pack for you. It might help keep the swelling down.”

  Hill pointed at the obvious bulge beside his kneecap where there hadn’t been one before. “I think it’s too late.”

  “Maybe not.” Drew jumped off the bed and grabbed one of the bags he’d brought in. He took one of the gallon plastic zipper bags and dumped the contents into a shopping bag.

  Drew opened the door. Wind and snow blew in. The temperature in the room took a nosedive.

  “If you’re going to play outside, have the good sense to close the door so I don’t freeze to death.”

  Drew threw a look over his shoulder. “You aren’t going to freeze.” He scooped up snow and closed the bag. “I don’t know how long it will last, but it’s something.”

  Drew came back inside and closed the door.

  Hill took the pseudo icepack and stuck it on his knee.

  “You want some ibuprofen?”

  “That and a good strong drink.” A look outside proved it was still coming down hard. “At this rate we’ll be snowed in until New Year’s.”

  Drew fished around in the luggage for something—probably the medication he’d offered. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than spending a week with you when you have no chance of getting away.”

  “With this knee, I’m not likely to go anywhere, with or without snow. At least not fast.” Hill moved the snow pack around. It was starting to melt some, but overall it did ease the pain a bit.

  Drew held the pills out to Hill. “Do you have a date for New Year’s?”

  Hill glanced over at the ring adorning Drew’s finger. “You fishing to find out if I’m seeing anyone, or do you just want to rub it in that you already have a date?”

  “Jen already told me you aren’t seeing anyone.” Drew looked down at his hand, following Hill’s gaze. “Oh, that. What, did you think I’d gotten married?”

  “The thought did cross my mind.”

  “I wear this ring for a number of reasons, but not because I’m married.” Drew started to take it off. “If you’d rather I didn’t wear it, I won’t.”

  “Don’t go changing your jewelry choices for me. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Well, obviously it is if you mentioned it.” Drew leaned closer. “Look, Hill, I put this ring on about two years into my Seattle experience. I was tired of explaining to the women that I’m gay and to the gay men that I’m taken. It was just easier to wear the ring than to field the questions.”

  Hill raised a brow and started to open his mouth when Drew cut him off.

  “Before you say anything—yes, I mean you. You’ve always had my heart. Even when I left.”

  “Then why did you go? Your career? It wasn’t just that. What else was there if you still loved me?”

  “I needed a chance to grow up on my own. To be my own man. I know for someone like you, it’s hard to believe.”

  Hill put up a hand in protest. “Wait a minute. What do you mean ‘someone like me’?”

  Drew glanced down at his plate, then back up to look into Hill’s eyes. “You’re a leader, a man who knows what he wants and what he likes, and you aren’t afraid or apologetic about any of it. Me, I spent so much time trying to please others that I forgot to please myself.”

  Hill’s heart knocked against his ribs. “You know if you thought I held you back or held you down, you only had to say you wanted to try new things, and I’d have understood. You really didn’t have to run away from me.”

  Drew shook his head. “I thought that might hurt you more. That you’d get mad and think I was pulling away from you.”

  “Instead you left and ripped my heart out and made me think you’d fallen out of love with me. So much heartache could have been avoided.”

  “I know.”

  Hill let out a long breath. He refrained from telling Drew how stupid he was and how, if he’d really trusted in their relationship and love, he would’ve found a way to tell Hill the truth before now. So much pain, anger, and heartache that never needed to be felt.

  A few minutes crawled by in silence before Drew hit Hill’s shoulder. “So do you have a date for New Year’s?”

  “No. Me and New Year’s are rather standoffish. Not the open loathing I have with Christmas, but not a great relationship either.” Hill kicked back the pills he still had in his hand, then took a swallow of his water.

  “We used to have New Year’s parties at the apartment.”

  Hill tried not to let the reminder hurt, but it was hard, and he was only human. “We used to have a lot of things.”

  Drew sat down again and picked up his abandoned plate. “I want that all back. I want you back.”

  Hill let out a huff and turned to Drew. He studied him for a moment. “I’m not the same man I was back then. I know I may seem charming, but I’m really a miserable sot.”

  Drew laughed. “I think I might’ve noticed that a time or two.”

  Hill gave a casual shrug. “I try not to overplay my hand.”

  “I agree. Subtlety is an art form with you.”

  Drew picked at his food and made a face. “It’s cold. Want me to warm yours up?”

  “Sure.” Hill handed over the mostly untouched food and settled back against the pillows, closing his eyes.

  Somewhere between the pain in his knee and the ibuprofen, he fell asleep, waking hours later to a quiet room.

  Drew was curled up next to him, not having sought refuge on his own bed.

  Tenderness moved through Hill, painful and unexpected. Light from the parking lot came in through the open drapes, reflecting off the falling snow and brightening the room enough to see. Full night had fallen.

  Hill looked at the bedside clock. Four thirty.

  God, he’d fallen asleep and almost made it through the night.

  White fur captured his attention from the corner of his eye. Adhered to the television set were two Christmas stockings hung side by side. He managed to lever himself out of bed and hobble to the unlikely display. His name was embroidered on one of them, Drew’s name on the other. Really? It wasn’t even Christmas morning yet. Drew had jumped the gun. The guy was like a little kid when it came to Christmas.

  When they’d lived together, Hill would hear Drew picking through bags, boxes, buckets. He’d riffle through the closets, cabinets, and hutches. No stone was left unturned when it came to searching the apartment for hidden presents. None of those fervent fishing expeditions had ever come up with a single catch. Why? Because Hill knew Drew too well and always hid any presents at a friend’s house. It wasn’t just Christmas either. Birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day. It didn’t matter the occasion, if there were presents to be exchanged, Drew was on the hunt. Hill remembered Drew even acting weird one year around Arbor Day. Hill had felt so bad about Drew hunting around for a present on a day dedicated to planting trees that he’d gone out and bought Drew a bonsai.

  Wow. He wondered if Drew still had that little tree.

  Hill approached the stockings as one would a wil
d animal. He’d seen a raccoon get into their garbage once; it wasn’t a pretty sight. He’d gotten chittered and hissed at, neither of which made him at all comfortable about getting into the house that night. He kind of had that same uneasy feeling in his stomach as he grew closer to the Christmas stocking. The one marked with his name was filled with all sorts of little odds and ends, and candies.

  Drew really had planned this all out.

  Regret blossomed in Hill’s chest and choked up into his throat. He wanted to hate Drew. Wanted to punish him for leaving and staying away for so long without a word. How could he possibly think to come back into Hill’s life and do such sweet things? Did he think it would erase the past seven years? It wouldn’t. Any relationship they had now wouldn’t be the same. That first blush of love was forever tainted—well, maybe not tainted so much as stained with the pain and hurt. Maybe in time Hill could learn to forgive, but he doubted he’d ever forget. There was no going back.

  But there was moving forward.

  Having no presents in hand or a way to get any so early in the morning in the middle of the worst snow in years, Hill found the pad of hotel stationery in the desk drawer and a ballpoint pen. He’d always been a decent artist, so putting those skills to work, he sat down at the little desk and started to make a present.

  He sketched an elaborate frame around the edge of the paper to simulate a certificate, then going with that idea, made it into a redeemable offer.

  To Andrew James Loften

  This certificate enables recipient to receive one New Year’s Eve date.

  Redeemable only to Hillard Joseph Bennett. Merry Christmas.

  Admiring his handiwork, Hill carefully folded the paper and stuffed it into the top of the stocking so it stuck out just enough to draw Drew’s attention. If Drew was man enough to try and work out their problems—to come back in the face of Hill’s possible rejection—the least Hill could do was give them a second chance. So they’d take it slow and see where it went. There were worse things than having a guaranteed date for New Year’s Eve. Especially when the guy looked like Drew.

  Damn, he’d only gotten hotter over the years, if that was even possible. The sad thing was that even though he’d never been particularly hung up on his looks, Drew still liked to be well groomed and dress in the latest styles.

  Hill stood in the light coming in from the parking lot and stared at Drew, curled up on the bed, reaching out his hand into the place where Hill should’ve been.

  Drew’s eyes popped open, and he looked around.

  “What time is it?” Judging from Drew’s voice, he was still half-asleep.

  “Quarter to five. Go back to sleep.”

  Hill shuffled to the bathroom, pretty certain his suggestion would be implemented. Drew was never the type to crawl out of bed if more sleep might be squeezed from the morning. So many sweet moments had been spent on lazy Sundays in bed, waiting for Drew to wake up and get moving. More often than not, Hill would stay in bed just to be near him. Laziness would morph to lovemaking that left them both exhausted until late morning/early afternoon.

  God, to have all that back again. To come together as men this time and not best friends who became more. He was just so damn tired of hurting. Of feeling like the best part of him left when Drew walked out. It hadn’t. It had only been easier to blame his pain on the fact he was unlovable than to pull himself up and move on.

  No more. He was the one in charge of his life.

  If things didn’t work out this time with Drew, Hill would get back into the dating scene and know he was worthy. Live in the moment and plan for the future. The end of the year was the perfect time to say good-bye to the past and embrace new beginnings.

  Hill finished and washed his hands, giving himself a good, hard look in the mirror.

  As Hill exited the bathroom and started into the room, he glanced up, and there stood Drew with the certificate in his hand and tears in his eyes.

  “You always know the perfect gift. Thank you.”

  Uncomfortable in the moment and his own skin, Hill shoved his hands in his pockets. Unable to say anything for fear of the tears he felt building, he simply nodded and went back to bed, waiting for Drew to follow.

  CASSIE SWEET lives and works from her home office in the New Jersey Highlands, where she shares space with her overly affectionate golden retriever and artist husband. Her writing takes her to many destinations, both real and imagined.

  Website: www.mystickat.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/MKMancosKScott

  By Cassie Sweet

  Hot Water

  The Stockings Were Hung

  ALCHEMISTS AND ELEMENTALS

  Eye of Truth

  Taste of Air

  Kiss of Death

  Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Published by

  DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Stockings Were Hung

  © 2016 Cassie Sweet.

  Cover Art

  © 2016 L.C. Chase.

  http://www.lcchase.com

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-63533-169-1

  Published December 2016

  v. 1.0

  Printed in the United States of America