Boyfriend Shopping: Shopping for My BoyfriendMy Only WishAll I Want for Christmas Is You

by Earl Sewell

  Maybe.

  I grinned. “This is most assuredly nuts.”

  “Yeah.” His hand cupped my cheek, his expression turned unexpectedly serious. “But it’s because we want it to be nuts. Not anyone else.”

  I covered his hand with mine and nodded.

  “I’m going to get the keys to Dad’s car. I’m thinking he won’t care about having to get a ride.” He lifted his chin and I followed his gaze.

  There was Tío Carlos, still talking to the same attractive lady in the blue dress and looking a little like he’d been hit upside the head with a two-by-four.

  It was New Year’s. All things were possible, I guess.

  “Meet you out front?” he asked, his thumb brushing my cheekbone in a surprisingly delicate caress that made me shiver. Again. And that continued that growing awareness of my body and his and how we’d be together. And left me feeling as if...

  Yeah.

  As if all things were possible.

  “Five minutes,” I promised as I pulled away, then found myself pulled back in for another one of those fairy-combusting kisses.

  “Four,” I whispered breathlessly against his mouth, then reluctantly backed away, my hand dragging down his arm, touching him for as long as possible, until with a final brush of my fingertips to his, I turned away and hurried off to the dance floor.

  “Hey!”

  I ignored Eddie’s outraged squawk as I pulled a starry-eyed Peyton behind me, not stopping until we hit the relatively private confines of the ladies’ lounge.

  “Um, hey,” she said with less outrage but definite acid. As the lounge door swung closed behind us, she crossed her arms and hit me with a patented Peyton Chaffee Look. “Good thing we weren’t enjoying ourselves or anything.”

  “You can get back to it soon enough, and you’ll even have the car to yourselves.” Even though the lounge was miraculously empty, I nevertheless hustled Peyton into the handicapped stall.

  “Well? Where’ve you been?” Her eyes narrowed. “Hair’s a little windblown, evidence of razor burn on the face, but the clothes still seem relatively intact. You’ve been making out outside,” she recited in clinical fashion, although a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her lipstickless mouth, I noted, with a telltale redness on the surrounding skin.

  “And you’ve been making out inside.” I tugged the shoulder of her dress back into place from where it had been edging off.

  She grinned and blushed a pretty pink. “This is crazy.”

  “Tell me about it.” I ducked far enough to glance in the mirror hanging over the stall’s low sink. Yeah, pretty much as she’d described, with the added benefit of high color in my cheeks and an almost feverish glitter to my eyes, brightening them to the color of the cognac Papi saved for special occasions.

  “So you and David are leaving, I take it?”

  I nodded and smiled. “Eddie’s got a key to our house, so you don’t have to worry about getting in. That is...if you do.”

  She blushed a deeper pink. “Your parents...”

  I waved off her concerns. “It’s New Year’s—the party’s expected to not only go all night, but well into tomorrow morning. We could leave and come back in time for champagne brunch with no one the wiser.”

  “Oh,” she said weakly. I hadn’t thought it possible for the girl to blush any harder, but there she went.

  “Yeah, oh.” I started to ask if she was really okay with being left with Eddie, not knowing what I’d say or do if she said she wasn’t. But at the same time, I knew she was okay with it.

  Before I could ask even the most token of questions, the outside door to the lounge opened, admitting a wave of loud voices.

  “Have you seen her? Thinking she’s all hot and shit.”

  “I wonder who told her red looked good on her?”

  “David seems to like it.”

  “Oh, please—what I think David likes is a challenge. I asked around—no one around here’s ever tapped that. For a guy like him, it’d be like the Holy Grail.”

  “I wonder what pushed her over?”

  “Aside from it’s David? I mean, have you seen him tonight?”

  “Mmm...no kidding.”

  “You know, I bet it was the ‘I study real hard because I want to be more than a ballplayer’ line.”

  “Ooh, I bet you’re right, girl. He worked that smart, sexy vibe, and considering how smart she thinks she is...”

  “Let’s see how smart she feels when he uses that line to not see her again after he screws her brains out tonight.”

  “You really think she’s gonna go that far?”

  “You did. And so did I. And so have half the girls we know. And it’s a perfect setup for him. She goes back to that stupid-ass school of hers and he doesn’t even have to bother coming up with the excuses he used on the rest of us.”

  “Care to put money on it?”

  “What? That Ice Queen Claudia spreads her legs for David Levy before midnight hits? It’s almost not a fair bet. You know if you had another shot, you’d be on your back in a heartbeat.”

  “Who says I’d even make it to my back? He could take me up against a wall. Worked just fine last month.”

  “I hear that—boy could take me any way he wants.”

  “You know, I almost feel sorry for her. She’s probably thinking happy ever after and he’s thinking what he’s gonna have for breakfast. Alone.”

  “I don’t. She’s always acted so stuck up, like what she’s got between her legs is more precious than the diamonds her daddy sells.”

  “Someone sounds jealous.”

  “Of that skinny-ass beanpole? Please.”

  Toilets had flushed. Water had run. Paper had ripped. There had been the metallic clicks of purse snaps, the noises unique to compacts being opened and speech impeded by the application of lipstick. Heels clicking on the marble floors and the whoosh of the heavy door sweeping the hateful words out of the lounge along with their owners.

  I heard it all, but it had come through muffled, as if through a filter—cushioning me from the worst of it. It would hit later, I knew—hard and vicious. I understood that with a dispassionate clarity. But right now, the emotions and words were nothing more than a vortex swirling inches away from my skin without touching.

  “Claudia, it’s okay.”

  I blinked, bringing Peyton’s face into focus. A little pale, the freckles across the bridge of her nose standing out in stark relief. If she looked like that, I could only imagine what I must look like.

  “Don’t give anything they said credence.”

  “They’ve got it so wrong.” My voice was soft, but remarkably steady. “I wasn’t thinking happy ever after.”

  I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I knew better. I mean, hello, not that fanciful or naive.

  Speaking more to myself than to her, I added, “I really wasn’t thinking beyond tonight.”

  But...

  I had at least been thinking ahead to tomorrow. To the rest of break.

  Just then the little fairies rose from their ashy, radioactive grave and prodded me to be completely honest with myself.

  Okay, so not happy ever after, because that was stupid and unrealistic, but I had been thinking maybe...

  Maybe we might have something. Something completely unexpected because he’d turned out to be so completely unexpected. And I’d been looking forward to discovering what that something might be.

  But as I’d just been so rudely reminded, this was David. I’d known what his rep was going in.

  My stomach churning, I quietly said, “I want to go home.”

  “Claudia...come on, they were just being jealous bitches. Don’t let it ruin your night. Don’t let it ruin—”

  “Peyton, please. Just go find Eddie a
nd let’s go.”

  In the back of my mind I knew I was being stupid. I should just laugh it off, go find David and see where the evening took us. Maybe even ask him straight up about those girls. But I couldn’t.

  Sure, it was possible they were exaggerating—maybe even making it all up. But as they’d talked, every picture I’d ever seen on every social-media site had scrolled through my mind. Yes, it was possible they were exaggerating, but if a single picture was worth a thousand words, then there were thousands and thousands of words’ worth of proof out there. And contained in the words I’d heard tonight had been a painful ring of truth I just couldn’t ignore.

  Peyton sighed, but like a true friend, she simply unlatched the door to the stall. In the hall outside the lounge she said, “I’ll go get Eddie and we’ll meet you by the front doors.”

  Arms wrapped around my midsection, I nodded and headed toward the entrance. Where I came face-to-face with David.

  Shit. We were supposed to have met by the front door.

  “Hey, there you are. I thought you’d run out on me.”

  He smiled, and, God, the way he looked—hair messy, shirt partially unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up and just, you know...happy—had me briefly reconsidering.

  “I bet it was the ‘I study real hard because I want to be more than a ballplayer’ line.”

  When I didn’t immediately respond, his smile slowly faded. “Claudia?”

  “It’s a perfect setup for him. She goes back to that stupid-ass school of hers and he doesn’t even have to bother coming up with the excuses he used on the rest of us.”

  But I couldn’t.

  I just couldn’t.

  “I’m going home, David.”

  His brows immediately drew together. “Are you okay? Do you feel all right?”

  Lips pressed together, I shook my head.

  “Okay, I’ll take you home, then. If you’re up to it, we can just hang out—watch the ball drop on TV or something.”

  I shook my head harder, the floor tiles blurry and watery.

  “Claudia—”

  “Dude, you need to leave her alone.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Eddie, what the hell?”

  “Oye, hermano—she wants to go home, okay? Just leave it.”

  “What? No. If she wants to go, I can take her.”

  “Don’t you get it, David? She doesn’t want you to.”

  “No offense, Eddie, but this is none of your business.”

  “She’s my cousin, which makes it my business. She asked for me to take her home, which also makes it my business. You know I love you like a brother, man, but I will kick your ass if you don’t lay off.”

  Energy crackled and snapped—the unmistakable tension of two guys about to go at it.

  “Both of you, stop it.” Peyton’s voice was quiet, but cool and authoritative with the weight of every Boston Brahmin ancestor in her family tree. “Claudia wants to go home. Without you, David. End of story. Eddie?”

  Peyton’s hand lit on my elbow, guiding me toward the door as Eddie rushed to open it, ever the gentleman for her. I felt bad I’d ruined his night. Ruined Peyton’s adventure. But as I passed him in the door, I saw how he reached out and briefly grasped her hand.

  Couldn’t deny it hurt a little. But I was glad, too. Peyton’s adventure would at least have another chapter.

  “Claudia, please, what happened?”

  I chanced a glance over my shoulder. I might have expected him to look pissed off—after all, no guy liked being blown off—but instead, he looked just as lost as I felt.

  Probably just not used to a girl saying no.

  “I just remembered who you are, David. And who I am.”

  “Okay, and—?”

  “And I’m really not a one-night sort of girl.”

  His jaw dropped. “But—”

  Whatever he was about to say was lost as the heavy glass door swung closed.

  And the fact he didn’t come after me kind of said it all, didn’t it?

  At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

  eight

  The fact that we were at five days after New Year’s and I hadn’t heard a single word from David kind of said it all, didn’t it?

  Yeah, it really did.

  I was good with it. I really was. At least, that’s what I told myself as I sat on the patio, leafing through the most recent issue of People en Español without really reading, since my ability to read Spanish was slowly being eroded by lack of practice. Plus, you know, I neither knew nor cared who half these people were, and I definitely didn’t care who they were procreating with, in or out of wedlock, or what procedures they’d had done to alter faces that would have been unrecognizable to me before.

  No, really, I was good with all of it.

  “You should have talked to him.”

  I glanced up to find Peyton standing at the foot of my chaise, hands on her hips.

  “What?”

  “I said, you should have talked to him.”

  I squinted against the glare haloing her and giving her the appearance of an avenging angel. Half-drunk on too much heat and not enough hydration, I tilted my head and regarded her more closely.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “I’m looking for your sword.”

  She crossed her arms and huffed out another one of those sighs that were sounding increasingly like Abuelita’s.

  “I’m serious.”

  “About?”

  “Talking to David.”

  My stomach twisted. We hadn’t talked about New Year’s since leaving the yacht club. I hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t thought we needed to. And yet, here we were, and she was trying to talk to me about it.

  Forget avenging angel—if ever I’d needed a visual for what those evil stomach-swooping fairies looked like, I had it right in front of me. All she needed was a pitchfork and glittery wings to go along with her perky red-haired ponytail.

  “You were there, Peyton. You heard what those bimbos said.”

  “Which is but one side of the story.” She perched on the edge of the chaise beside mine and propped her elbows on her knees. “You’re a scientist, Claudia. You know better than to rely on a single test result. Especially one with such a small sample.” She cocked her head and hit me with a narrow-eyed stare. “Besides, you know damned well the result has an inherent flaw.”

  “How so?”

  “Because it’s skewed, you nitwit.”

  I sat straight up. “Nitwit? How am I the nitwit in this scenario?”

  “Because you’re buying what you heard without ever having spoken to him.”

  Holding up a hand before I could even form my inevitable protest, she added, “I get not speaking to him that night, but I honestly thought once you settled down, you might have at least given the guy a chance to explain himself.”

  I grabbed my bottle of water but simply toyed with the lid, screwing it off and on, concentrating on the ribbed texture of the plastic and the slight crackling sounds it made.

  “There was enough in the sampling to give it veracity,” I finally said.

  “You mean that his reputation as a player appears well deserved?”

  “I bet it was the ‘I study real hard because I want to be more than a ballplayer’ line.”

  The line echoed in my head, the sting every bit as sharp as the moment I’d first heard it.

  “Among other things,” I admitted.

  “I repeat, single test. You know damned well how it appears in one iteration doesn’t necessarily translate to another, especially when another data point is brought into consideration. A key data point, at that.”

  It would’ve been one thing if she’d tri
ed to appeal to my girlie, emotional side. I’d spent the past five days shoring up those defenses, and anything she would have said would have fallen on deaf ears. Appealing to the rational side, though...that was low.

  So I tried another tack.

  “Look, how much can it matter? It’s not as if he’s been beating down the door, trying to give me his side of the story.”

  “That’s because he’s scared.”

  Both Peyton and I turned to see Eddie emerging from the house, wearing his school uniform. Dropping his blazer over the back of the chaise, he took a seat beside Peyton.

  As they exchanged ridiculously sweet glances and brushed hands, I snorted—not at them, just at the concept of David Levy being scared of me.

  “All right, girl, it’s time you and me had a little come-to-Jesus talk.”

  I looked between him and Peyton, who was nodding like a bobblehead doll, her perky ponytail bouncing with emphasis. Okay, I could understand, even forgive, falling back on the Bro Code. I got that he and David were as close as brothers. But taking my best friend along on the ride?

  So not fair.

  “Okay, Eddie—hit me with your best shot. Why is David Levy scared, and why should I give a damn?”

  “Because he likes you.”

  My stomach swooped in response to the blunt words, but still, not good enough. “He likes a lot of girls.”

  “No, he’s gone out with a lot of girls, slept with more than a few, but liking them? Enough to tell them stuff he’s never told anyone else?” Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, Claudia, but that puts you on a pretty singular playing field—way out of the league of those other chicks.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know what he told me?”

  Eddie rolled his eyes. “Relax—I don’t. Not the details, at any rate. But I know the guy—warts and all.” He paused. “Which is why when he first asked me for help setting him up with you, I said no.”

  The words, they were in English. I understood them as singular entities, but as parts of an actual sentence that was supposed to make sense?