by Joe Satoria
YOURS FOR CHRISTMAS
JOE SATORIA
Copyright © 2020 Joe Satoria
All Rights Reserved
www.JoeSatoria.com
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All characters, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are used fictionally and without intent of slander. Any resemblance to actual people are purely coincidental.
NOTICE: British English, using BE grammar and spelling. Example: Mr and Mrs - instead of Mr. and Mrs.
YOURS FOR CHRISTMAS
Trying to avoid another family Christmas, Spencer Grant tells his family he has a boyfriend and he’ll be busy—but they don’t buy it.
Breaking up with his girlfriend and missing a flight on Christmas Eve, Giovanni Knight’s holiday plans are ruined.
In an attempt to rescue each other, Giovanni stands in as Spencer’s fake boyfriend. They share their first kiss under mistletoe—but that’s all for show until they fall into the comfort of each other.
Playing pretend is fun but when pretends becomes real, do you run or embrace it?
YOURS FOR CHRISTMAS is a HFN (Happy For Now) gay romance novella.
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
ABOUT the AUTHOR
ONE
The bleak overcast skies welcomed England to Christmas Eve, as it had every morning in December. Today, families would spend their final day fighting over the best deals and going broke trying to make children smile.
That wasn’t Spencer Grant. Spencer was single, twenty-seven years old, and living with his friends in a flat in South London. He was enjoying every minute of his late morning nap before the dreaded drive to his family in Chester.
“Bullshit!” Giovanni’s loud voice cussed out, waking Spencer.
It wasn’t unusual for Spencer to hear his flatmates shouting, the walls were thin, he’d rather hear them shouting than their bed backing up against the wall at 3 A.M.
It was a three-bedroom flat, home to Spencer, Giovanni, and Melissa. Gio was the latest addition since moving in at the end of November, and so far the loudest.
“Gio?” Spencer called out, pounding his hands on the puffed duvet.
“Spence?”
In the darkness of his bedroom, Spencer navigated to the door. Pulling his nightgown together as he tied the fabric belt at his waist. He was five-eight on good day, pushing five-nine with bed head.
“Thought you’d left,” Gio continued at the sight of Spencer in the light of the hallway.
“I thought you’d left as well,” Spencer said, rubbing at puffy eyes.
Giovanni was six-one, descending from a short Italian mother and a tall British father. He had jet hair, slicked back, and pooling hazel eyes. He leaned against his bedroom door in the hallway with a small suitcase against the wall.
“Missed my flight,” he said, he slapped his hand against his face, “missed my fucking flight.” He kicked at the suitcase with his leather shoes, sliding it across the floor.
Spencer rolled his eyes, passing him in the hallway. “How?”
Gio followed Spencer into the large open plan living and kitchen space. “Traffic,” he mumbled. “And all the other flights are fully booked.”
“Poor you,” Spencer said, throwing himself on the couch and picking his legs up. “Get back with Ellie, that’ll solve all your problems.” He hugged his hands against his chest in the nightgown.
“No, and I even tried first class.” Giovanni was dressed in a pair of grey slacks, a white t-shirt, and a navy puffer jacket. He sighed, leaning across the kitchen counter.
“Of course.”
“I’m alone for Christmas.”
“You broke up with Ellie two weeks ago,” Spencer said, turning in the couch to Gio. “Get back with her, then—”
“She cheated on me, twice.”
“I’d offer to spend Christmas alone with you, but I can’t.” Spencer gestured with a shrug. “At least you have a tree and lights, and—” Spencer nodded to the small Christmas tree on the step stool in the corner. He couldn’t think of anything else worthy of note.
Gio removed his jacket as he walked around to the couch. “No.” He slapped at Spencer’s legs for him to move. “At least you can drive and spend time with your family.”
“You love Christmas too much.”
Giovanni flashed his pearly white smile as he sank into the seat beside Spencer. “Everyone loves Christmas.” And Gio had loved it for as long as he could remember, the one time of year he could suspend reality and live in a fantasy. It also helped he worked in advertising and marketing. “Also, how can you hate it, it’s prime ad month.”
“When you see how the sausage is made, you stop eating sausage,” Spencer sighed.
All three of the flatmates worked for the same advertising and marketing company. Spencer met Melissa at university, and they both met Giovanni at work, they’d known him since February, but they’d only really got to the know him when he moved in.
“When are you going?” Gio asked.
“As soon as I can muster the strength,” he grumbled, throwing his head against the back of the couch. “You know, the worst thing is, I can’t even pretend to have my car breakdown.”
“I’d drive you,” Gio said immediately.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “No, pretend to breakdown.”
“Still not had anyone to pretend to be your boyfriend then?” he snickered back.
“I’ve given up on the search, four failed dates and one guy who thought the whole idea was stupid,” he snapped back. “Plus, even if I couldn’t find a way to get there, they would drive to pick me up.”
Spencer had told a white lie, and unlike his thought on lying about a breakdown, this one had spiralled out as verbal vomit and he couldn’t take it back. The first week in December, Spencer had been spurred on by a little alcohol and excitement to tell his mother he had a boyfriend. The end goal was getting a free pass out of Christmas to spend with his fake boyfriend.
“I’d just tell you to get back with—” Gio chuckled, “but you scare most people away, don’t you?”
“Is that a question?”
“Must be your norvern charm.” He swotted at Spencer’s arm.
Spencer’s neck coiled as Gio attempted to mock the typical Mancunian accent. “I don’t sound like that. I’m from Cheshire.”
“So, you’ve come clean then, or did you break up?” he asked, chuckling to himself.
The lie had grown. Spencer’s mother had informed the entire family, and a fair few of them would be around for Christmas dinner. It spoiled his plans, especially since this would’ve been Spencer’s third boyfriend and the first one he’d have over Christmas.
“I’m going to tell them he’s ill,” Spencer said with a reassuring nod. “He’s in the hospital, bad flu, something contagious, you know.” To Spencer, lying to get out of a lie was good enough—if not better than telling the truth, especially with his family.
Gio clicked his tongue. “I’ll come instead.”
“Ha,” he let out. “That’s not happening. I’ve already planned in my head. I’ll spend the night, have dinner, and be back tomorrow evening after telling them I want to be with him.”
“Pretty rude,” he scoffed.
“What?”
“I’m just going to be alone then.”
“Listen, I’m doing you a favo
ur.”
“Why?” he snickered, raising his brows at Spencer. “I could sell that we’re in love.” Gio shimmied his shoulders forward. “I am born from passion.”
Spencer held his hand to Gio. “Firstly, you’re very straight, my sister would sus you out immediately.” He snapped his fingers, “and secondly—”
“They wouldn’t believe you could bag a guy like this.” Gio gestured to himself.
“No,” he held his palm out. “It would be too weird.”
Scoffing, Gio shook his head. “My bag is packed. If not, I’ll be alone, and I bought special Christmas jumpers.”
“You should just go instead of me,” he said. “Try not to mock the accent, I’ll tell them I’ve grown, I’ve been tanning, oh and I now have brown eyes.”
“That a yes?” Gio asked, his thousand-watt smile beaming. “I think that’s a yes.” He jumped from the couch.”
“No.” Spencer whacked the couch seat with a hand. “No, definitely not. They’ll ask too many questions. It’ll be weird, and what will we tell Melissa when she’s back from her holiday?”
Gio was too busy fist pumping to listen. “I love Christmas.”
“I’m happy with my original plan,” Spencer said above the sound.
“We’ve worked together for ages, and I think I know you well enough after a month living here.” Gio grabbed at his phone from his pocket. “Christmas music will help.”
Spencer pulled himself from the couch. “You’re stupid for suggesting that you’ll come with me. Nobody but Melissa has met my parents, and if you do, the rest of the agency might as well know about them too.”
“That’s not bad is it?” he asked as Michael Bublé’s voice came from the speaker, singing ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’. “So, what else do I need to know about you?” Gio grabbed at a cup from the draining board. “Coffee?”
“You’re really serious about this,” Spencer groaned. “And yes, lots of coffee.”
Gio chuckled over the sound of the mechanical whirr of the coffee machine. “It’ll be fun, I’ll get a Christmas I’ll never forget, you’ll get the whole experience of showing off in front of your family.”
Spencer’s tongue turned in his mouth. He knew it was only for the day. “I’m not paying for the therapy after.”
Gio shrugged. “What could go wrong?”
“No!” Spencer shouted. “Don’t—” he shook his head. “Don’t jinx this.” He combed a hand through his thick, unkempt hair. “Make mine a strong coffee, double espresso. I need to put my head on and think.”
“Well, you already agreed, you can’t take it back,” Gio said.
Spencer shuddered to himself as walked back down the hallway to his room.
Gio raised his voice after him. “You can’t take it back.”
Now, Spencer’s well-crafted plan had been turned on its head. A plan which admittedly had flaws, but this time there was a new addition, a full breathing person, and someone Spencer had once crushed on—you know, the type of crush you develop the first week you get a hot half-Italian flatmate.
After his double espresso shot black coffee and a shower, Spencer sat Gio in the living room. He was armed with paper and a pen.
“I’m the youngest,” he started, writing his name on the paper. “I have an older sister and an older brother, my sister will be the most suspicious, she’s also a serial dater, so don’t flirt with her or I’ll die of embarrassment, that is, if you want to keep the lie going.” He circled and drew lines, adding in the family.
Gio nodded. “As long as we keep everything above the belt, I’m pretty convincing.”
Spencer’s eyes turned to slits as he stared at Gio’s side profile. “When you say that, I feel a little sick.”
“You don’t want to kiss me?”
He had—he did. “Listen, that’s not the point.”
“Relax, I’ve kissed guys before,” he chuckled. “As like, dares.”
“I’m more worried about them finding out you’re straight.”
“No guy talk, car talk, football talk—”
Spencer nodded vehemently. “Good, because my dad will probably have some sport show or something on, so try not to show interest in it.”
“I thought gay people loved sports,” he chuckled.
Spencer suppressed a smile, looking at Gio who couldn’t control his grinning face. “The exception is men in those tight fit wrestling onesies.”
“Oh, oh,” Gio said, grabbing at the paper and pen from Spencer. “I would rather write this down. So, you have a wrestling fetish. Any other kinks I should be aware of?”
His face flushed. “We are not talking about sex.”
Gio scribbled out what he’d written. “Doesn’t like sex,” he said with a nod. “So, you have your sister and brother, both parents are still alive, who else is a must-know.”
“My grandmother will be there, she’s the only grandparent still alive, she probably be in her own world, or shouting,” he said. “Then there’s whoever else is sad enough to come visit because I told my mum I had a boyfriend.”
Gio’s eye grew wider as he pressed his lips together. “Sounds like I’m creating a character role for a script,” he chuckled. “I’m not an actor, but we did just do the same-sex couple Christmas campaign for the shoe company.”
“Please don’t remind me about that,” he mumbled.
Gio chuckled. “I heard you tell Melissa you tried finding a date at the photoshoot.”
Growing redder, Spencer wasn’t sure if the embarrassment would leave him. “Another rule, no cringey anecdotes at the Christmas table, please.”
“Right,” Gio said. He tapped his watch. “When are we leaving?”
“Four-ish.”
“And how long does it—”
“Four hours, give or take,” he replied. “We’ll have time to come up with believable back stories.”
Gio hummed, tapping the pen on the paper. “How did we meet? How long have we been dating? Wait—” his eyes brightened. “Did you give me a name?”
Spencer threw his hands to his face, groaning as he sank into his seat. Perhaps this was a bad idea, there was so much to this plan that could go wrong and blow up. Gio was winning either way, he was getting an authentic Christmas experience on one hand, and on the other, if it didn’t work, Spencer had assured him his sister would find him attractive.
“They don’t know his name,” Spencer said. “Now, you think of some stories. I need to pack.”
“You mean my name,” he said.
Spencer jumped from the seat. “Write whatever, but don’t embarrass me.”
It took Spencer thirty minutes to pack. He didn’t need much; the essentials for an overnight stay, it took up nearly half of his empty gym bag. He’d been stood by the front door of the flat for nearly five minutes, listening to the loud Christmas songs pumping out of Gio’s room.
“You said five minutes,” Spencer shouted. “I’m not complaining, but—”
Out in the hallway, Gio appeared dressed in a red jumper with flashing lights embedded to create a Christmas tree. “I was looking for batteries,” he said. “What do you think?”
“Honestly?” Spencer grumbled, letting the gym bag fall from his shoulder. “Kinda hate it.”
Gio gave a spin on his foot. “And I thought gay people knew fashion.” He shrugged and looked back at Spencer. “Apparently not.”
Spencer scoffed back. “Is this what I’ve been waiting for, let’s go.”
“I have a couple,” he said. “Just made sure they’ve got batteries. I’ll let you borrow one.”
“If I have to wear one, I will become a Christmas jumper—jumping out of the window.”
Gio tsked, looking out the window of the flat. “Three floors? You’d probably just break your legs.”
“Let’s goooo.”
“Right, let me zip my suitcase,” he said, darting back into his bedroom. “I know you’ll find the Christmas spirit,” he called out from his room
.
“Yes,” Spencer replied with a smile. “He’s called vodka, and I know where my parents stash the good stuff.”
Appearing from his room again, rolling the suitcase by his side, Gio shook his head with a smile. “Christmas is infectious, I don’t know how you can hate it.”
Spencer shook his head once again, pulling his bag on his shoulder. “The only thing infectious around Christmas is pregnancy, and the flu.”
Gio frisked himself for his key. “We’re taking my car.”
“That wasn’t part of the—”
“I’ve seen your car,” he replied, shaking his head. “We’re taking mine.”
Spencer nodded. “Nice to see you don’t have an ego.”
Gio shrugged, grabbing at his jacket. “No offence.”
Spencer drove a red hatchback, of which the seats were filled with empty water bottles and takeout wrappers. It hadn’t been cleaned in months and it was almost ready for the scrapheap. Gio, on the other hand, owned his father’s old navy BMW; pristine condition with original leather interior and smell to prove it.
Both cars were parked beside each other in the parking bay outside the block of flats. Spencer could see the trash build up through the back window, anything could’ve been living in there and he wouldn’t have known.
“I’m surprised you haven’t been robbed,” Spencer said, throwing his bag into the boot of the car. “Once Melissa texts to say she’s landed, I’m telling her about how stupid all of this is.”
“I think she might even be surprised,” Gio said. “But I thought you didn’t want all the agency to find out.”
Spencer stared Gio out. “She’s my best friend, I’m telling her.” He pointed. “You, on the other hand, get to keep it to yourself. Because I’m the one doing you the favour.”
“And I’m just doing you a favour too,” he answered, “fake boyfriend could be a difficult task, you’re probably demanding and need constant attention.”
“You know, my mum will ask when we’re getting married with you driving up in this,” Spencer said.
