Snowflakes and Song Lyrics

by Hank Edwards

  Snowflakes and Song Lyrics

  Hank Edwards

  Startled Monkeys Media

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Snowflakes and Song Lyrics ©2019 Hank Edwards

  Cover design by Brigham Vaughn

  Book design and production by Hank Edwards

  Editing by M. A. Hinkle

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Publication, 2019

  Summary:

  Will Johnson is traveling for work the weeks before Christmas and staying in a small hotel in upstate New York. It’s all pretty routine, until he discovers his window overlooks the courtyard patio of one of his favorite up and coming gay singers, Rex Garland. Even further outside of Will’s routine is overhearing Rex’s creative process as the singer struggles to write an original Christmas song.

  When Will receives a flash of lyrical inspiration, he decides to share the lyrics with his idol in a secret note left on Rex’s patio table. This sets off a chain of events that include coincidental meetings, more inspired lyrics, and a tiny snowman that just might capture Rex’s heart and make this Christmas one neither of them will ever forget.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Hank Edwards

  1

  “You are like a sad little unicorn lost in a rural snowscape.”

  Will snorted a laugh as he fought with his necktie. “You’re not helping me focus on getting this damn thing tied.”

  “It’s just so sad,” Carter said with an elaborate sigh. “All of it makes me sad. Do you get off on the fact that your life makes me sad?”

  Will dropped his gaze to where he had propped his phone up on the dresser beneath the mirror, angled so he and Carter could see each other in the video chat app. Carter wore a neon blue sweatband around his forehead, which pushed his thick, dark hair up into a veritable fountain on top of his head. He was currently making duck faces, and Will laughed.

  “I can see you,” Will said.

  “I know. That’s why I was doing it. So how long have you been sentenced to this place? Where is it again? The tundra?”

  “It’s not a sentence, and it’s not the tundra,” Will said, finally managing to get the tie knotted. He smiled and held his hands out. “There!” He turned to face the phone. “Tada!”

  Carter inspected him with a critical eye. “The back of it is too long.”

  “What?” Will turned back to the mirror and saw the skinny tail hung just a bit longer than the front of the tie. “Dammit.”

  “Where’d you get that tie anyway?” Carter asked. “1992?”

  Will loosened the tie and started all over again, grumbling, “I got it for Christmas last year, so it’s not out of style.”

  “You’re so cute,” Carter said. “Apparently those two weeks we dated didn’t have any impact on you at all.”

  “Oh, they had an impact,” Will said.

  Carter looked wounded. “Be nice.”

  Will grinned down at the phone as he worked on the tie. “You spoiled me for anyone else.”

  Carter beamed. “Smooth talker.”

  “Just speaking the truth, my friend.”

  “Well, right back at you,” Carter said. “Things would be a lot simpler if we could have just figured out how to be a couple instead of a couple of friends.”

  “You know, I’m glad we realized it when we did,” Will said. “You’re my best friend. And now, when we go out to the bars, if a guy asks me if you’re any good in bed, I can truthfully say that I’ve sampled your wares and that you are highly recommended.”

  “My wares?” Carter leaned in close to the phone and lowered his voice. “Are you speaking in code because you’ve been abducted by the local townspeople and need help?”

  Will chuckled. “Nope.” He finished up with the tie again and inspected it. “There. How’s that?”

  “Turn to me,” Carter instructed, and Will turned toward the phone. “Hmm. Hands at your side, please.”

  “Just tell me if the tie looks—”

  “Do it!” Carter snapped, and Will pressed his hands against his thighs. “Don’t look so scared.”

  “I feel like a goat in front of a T-rex,” Will said.

  “You should be so lucky.” Carter looked him up and down. “Smile.”

  Will smiled.

  “Smile less like a serial killer at a rural truck stop.”

  Will laughed. “That was very specific.”

  “When you head out to the local truck stop to cruise men, you’ll thank me for putting that idea in your head,” Carter said. “Turn around.”

  “I really don’t have time for—”

  “Turn!”

  Will did a quick turn.

  “How about you slow it down a notch, Adam Rippon. This isn’t the Nationals.”

  Will sighed and did a slow turn. When he faced the phone again, he raised his eyebrows. “Satisfied?”

  Carter smiled. “I just wanted to see that fine ass again.”

  Will carried the phone into the bathroom and set it on the counter, propped against the mirror.

  “I hope you’re not going to make me watch you take a crap,” Carter said.

  “Gross,” Will said. “And no. I’m brushing my teeth and combing my hair.”

  “You use a comb?”

  “You know my morning routine,” Will said. “Don’t act like it’s a surprise.”

  “You never really answered my question from before.”

  Will stuck his toothbrush in his mouth, saying around it, “What question?”

  “How long you’ve been sentenced to that place,” Carter said. “And what you’re doing there. Also, where are you again? East of Nowhere, Nebraska?”

  “Oh my God, you never listen to me,” Will said around the minty foam in his mouth. “I’m in Williamsville, New York, not Nebraska. It’s a little south of Buffalo. At least, I think it’s south.”

  “Not sure because they had a hood over your head during the car ride?” Carter asked.

  Will laughed and sprayed toothpaste across the mirror. “Dammit, stop making me laugh.”

  Carter laughed, a clear, sparkling sound that never failed to make Will smile. “It’s a gift. I don’t own it. I can’t believe you’ve been sentenced to, and I quote, ‘a town maybe south of Buffalo, New York,’ when it’s this close to Christmas. Who am I going to take shopping? Who’s going to sit on Santa’s lap with me?” Carter pouted. “I don’t like this new job of yours.”

  Will rinsed his mouth and checked his teeth in the mirror. “What about David?”

  Carter rolled his eyes. “David is not Christmas cavorting material.”

  Will looked at the phone with a cocked eyebrow. “We cavort?”

  Carter gave him a look filled with pity. “Oh, sweetie. You’re not going to do well without me there, are you? Do they have any gay bars there so you don’t lose your gay card?”

&nbs
p; “Buffalo has some,” Will said. “And it’s not too far to drive.”

  “Buffalo? Hey, that sounds familiar.” Carter picked up his phone. “I saw something about Buffalo last night.”

  “They getting a hundred feet of snow?” Will asked.

  “Well, that, too, but something else. Dammit, what was it?”

  Will checked his appearance in the mirror once more, then picked up the phone. “Thanks for chatting. You helped me feel less nervous about my first day here.”

  Carter smiled. “You’re welcome. Just know that Boston is much drearier without you here.”

  “You’ll find someone on Grindr to brighten up your days and nights, I’m sure,” Will said with a smirk.

  “I hope you find someone out there too,” Carter said, then smiled brightly. “Maybe you can enter that famous dogsled race they have!”

  “That’s the Iditarod, and it’s in Alaska, not New York.”

  Carter frowned. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

  Will smirked. “I am now. I need to go.”

  “Right. And do what again?”

  “Kick off the process of transferring this branch’s human resource records to a new system.”

  Carter made a face. “Ew.”

  “Yeah, I won’t be very popular for a while,” Will said. “And I gotta go.”

  “Have a good one,” Carter said. “I’ll find that news about Buffalo and send it along. Let me know how things go today.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  Will disconnected the call and slid the phone in his pocket. He crossed the hotel room and looked out the window. Down below lay a courtyard completely boxed in by the walls of the hotel, all of it covered in a bright white blanket of snow. Overhead, flat, gray cloud cover obscured the sun and sky. If the weather was going to be like this for the whole four weeks of his assignment, he might need to order a UV light online.

  He packed up his laptop and some notebooks, grabbed his coat, and headed out the door.

  Will stood in the aisle of the small cafeteria, between the sandwich counter and the salad bar. He looked between both options a few times. A salad would be best—he was carrying some extra weight—but a sandwich seemed more in order to celebrate completing the first half of his first day.

  As he waited in line to give the sandwich maker his order, Will’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at it and found a text from Carter.

  How was the morning? Have you lost any toes to frostbite? I found what I wanted to tell you about Buffalo. Sharpen your stalker skills because your all-time favorite gay singer is performing in Buffalo: REX GARLAND!

  A warm flush started in Will’s chest and spread to his face. Rex Garland? He couldn’t believe it. Rex Garland was going to be performing in Buffalo? A half-hour’s drive away from the hotel? Holy shit. Why hadn’t he seen a post about it? He followed Rex on every form of social media.

  “What can I get you?”

  Will looked up, his goofy grin slipping at the bored expression of the woman waiting to make his sandwich. “Oh, hi. Sorry, just got some good news on a text.”

  “Great. What’ll you have?”

  Will told her his order and looked back at his phone, bouncing between apps as he searched for some kind of post from Rex about being in Buffalo. There was nothing about it on Instagram or his Facebook page. Maybe in Twitter?

  “Hey, happy-go-lucky newbie,” the sandwich woman said. “Here.”

  He looked up and found her holding a to-go container out over the counter. Will apologized and took the container, then grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the checkout. Once he’d paid, he found a small table near the windows and sat down, ignoring his sandwich as he continued to investigate.

  There it was, buried in Rex’s Twitter stream. Will sucked in a breath as he read the short statement: Rexaroos in Buffalo! I’ll be performing at The Side-Eye all of December starting this Friday! Come on out and say hi!

  Rexaroos was the name Rex called his fan base, and Will couldn’t stop grinning. Rex Garland, the Rex Garland, was going to be performing for the entire month just down the road. Maybe this work assignment wasn’t so bad after all.

  Still grinning, Will ate his sandwich as he opened a map app and found where The Side-Eye was located. He checked out the website and felt a giddy thrill when he saw the dance floor butting right up against the stage. Oh, if only he could find a spot right up front and be able to look up Rex’s long, strong body to his trimmed dark beard, wide, white smile, and dark brown eyes. Maybe Rex would look right at Will as he sang his most famous song, the one that catapulted him into the gay community’s consciousness: “Safe Inside Your Arms.”

  Oh, to have that moment with Rex. To have any moment with him.

  It wasn’t just Rex’s looks, though, to be honest, the singer did hit all of Will’s physical requirements. Will had noticed his handsome, strong torso covered with dark, trimmed hair and round, solid ass with an equally appealing bulge up front, but listening to Rex’s lyrics had really cemented the attraction.

  An attraction millions of other gay men felt as well. And most of those men were a lot better looking than Will. They were certainly not as overweight as Will.

  Well, no need to get ahead of himself with all of this. He would just be happy to get a chance to see Rex perform live.

  Will noticed the time and hurriedly finished eating his sandwich. It wouldn’t look good for him to return late from lunch his first day.

  The Williamsville Inn had seen better days. Most likely sometime back in the 1960s. The early 1960s.

  Will entered his room after a long first day on the job, and the heat nearly made him pass out in the entryway. It had to be ninety degrees! He desperately pulled off clothing as he searched for a thermostat, but by the time he was down to socks and his boxer briefs, he’d had no luck.

  “So I’ve died and gone to Hell, and this is what I have to look forward to for eternity?” Will muttered.

  The heating/air conditioning unit under the window—a long metal contraption with a number of vents set at an upward angle—made a thumping noise followed by a quiet hiss. Will sidestepped to the end of the bed and peered down at the thing. A stamp with the brand name Rest Easy was affixed to one corner, and warm air gusting out of the vents blew the sheer curtains away from the windowsill.

  Will approached the unit and discovered a small metal flap on a hinge at one end. Underneath was a small knob with a faded line painted on it. The knob was turned all the way over to COOL, and Will sighed. No more cool setting to try, apparently.

  “So much for resting easy, I guess.”

  He pulled the flimsy white curtains aside and inspected the window. Happiness filled him when he discovered the age of the hotel at last worked in his favor, and one side of the window was a slider he could open for some fresh air. The locking mechanism was old, however, and took some struggle before it finally released and allowed him to shove the window open with a squeal of the metal frames scraping together.

  Will closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. He released it slowly and opened his eyes to look down into the courtyard. His room was on the top floor of the three-story building, and the first-floor rooms across from his all had small patios outside a sliding door. Metal café tables and chairs were provided for each room, and all of it was covered in snow. A quartet of lights in the style of old streetlamps, complete with large round frosted glass shades, provided gentle illumination to the area.

  Just as he was wondering if the first-floor rooms cost more because of the tiny patios, one of the sliding doors almost directly across from his window opened, and a man stepped out.

  He was tall, with dark hair and a matching full beard. A flannel shirt covered a white tee that hugged his broad chest and flat stomach. The cuffs of tight black jeans had been tucked into black Doc Martens. Something about the man seemed familiar, and Will guessed he’d seen him around the hotel. Someone like that would have definitely caught
Will’s eye.

  But then the man turned to call to someone still inside the room, and the sound of his voice tripped recognition in Will’s brain.

  Rex Garland.

  Will sucked in a breath and stared down into the courtyard, watching Rex pace around the cafe table, leaving a path in the snow. His hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, and he seemed to be muttering to himself.

  A burning in his chest reminded Will to let out his breath and pull another one in.

  Rex Garland was staying at his hotel. Would he be here for the entire run of his appearances at the Side-Eye? Will’s heart pounded, and a fresh sheen of sweat covered his body. Even the bottoms of his feet were damp!

  A man joined Rex out on the patio, and the two of them spoke in low tones. Will watched, lips slightly parted as he absently rubbed a hand through the fine hair covering his chest. He couldn’t make out any words of their conversation until Rex threw his hands in the air and said, “I know I need to get it done, okay? Back the fuck off.”

  The other man held his hands up in a sign of surrender and went back inside the room.

  Rex’s paces around the small café table picked up speed, and Will could hear him talking to himself. He hated to see his favorite singer in such a state.

  Suddenly, Rex stopped and stared across the courtyard. Will pressed his forehead to the glass in an effort to see straight down, but he wasn’t able to. When he looked back, he discovered Rex looking right up at his window. Realizing he must look pretty fucking creepy standing in front of his window in his underwear, Will dropped to the floor and lay there for a moment listening to the heating unit rattle and hiss.