by K. C. Wells
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Dear Santa,
Please can you send me a guy for Christmas? Someone kind, good-looking, sweet… but who knows what he’s doing? ( If you get my meaning ;-) ) You must know SO MANY people. Surely you can give someone a shove in my direction?
I’m serious here!
I need your help.
I’m eighteen and I’m a virgin.
That doesn’t sound bad, right?
Well, in my little town, most of the guys I went to school with are getting a lot of action. And bragging about it. They have their pick of girls.
Only thing is? I don’t want a girl. And gay or bi guys are pretty thin on the ground around here.
Hell, the only gay guy I know of for sure is my neighbor, Mr. Quentin, but he’s ‘ancient’. He has to be at least thirty. Not that he isn’t hot - don’t get me wrong, he’s smoking! He was the coolest teacher ever, but he’s not gonna be interested in a guy my age.
Anyway, Santa…. I know you’re kinda busy right now, but if you could spare a thought for my little problem, I’d be eternally grateful.
Thanks, Santa.
Robin
P.S. I know I made it sound like it’s all about popping my cherry, but a little Christmas romance would be great too. So no guys with snow where their hearts should be, okay? I want ALL the feelz.
P.P.S On second thoughts, make that a lot of romance. But be careful, okay, Santa? I want a guy who’ll steal my heart, not break it.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Guy for Christmas
Copyright © 2020 by K.C. Wells
Cover Art by Meredith Russell
Photo of Adam Ramzi, courtesy of Charles Moriarty
Cover content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
The trademarked products mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners and are recognized as such.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including 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.
Table of contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
About the Author
Other titles
Chapter One
The dining table groaned under the weight of all the food Robin’s mom had prepared for Thanksgiving. Now the hard work was over she was all smiles. His dad was on his second glass of wine, and his twin brother Ryan wasn’t throwing shade like he usually did.
If ever there was a perfect time to come out, this was it. The only problem was how.
Robin Davis wanted to be different, dammit.
He’d gone over this moment in his head countless times, and nothing he came up with sounded quite right. Well, he wasn’t going to say a word until he was sure he’d nailed it.
Mom passed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Thank you for making an effort, by the way.”
Robin blinked. “Er, you’re welcome?” He held the bowl away from Ryan’s grabby hands. “She gave them to me. Wait your turn.”
“‘Wait your turn’,” Ryan mimicked in a high voice.
Robin glared at him. “Hey, it’s Thanksgiving. Quit being a jerk and have a day off.”
“Boys?” There was a warning note in his dad’s voice that Robin recognized instantly. The one that said, ‘Not today or I’m gonna bust heads.’
As if his dad would do that. Dad was a pussycat, not a hardass, but they let him have his delusions.
“I’m talking about your clothes,” Mom continued. “You didn’t come to the dinner table in those jeans you’re so fond of. You know, the ones with the rips?” That upward lift of her eyebrows was definitely a comment on the rips.
Ohhh. He gave a shrug. “Well, it is Thanksgiving, right?” And besides, his favorite jeans were in the laundry hamper. Robin did have some standards. Never mind that if he hadn’t put them in the hamper, they might have walked there under their own steam.
Dad let out a wry chuckle. “Too bad you couldn’t do something about your hair. The way it sticks up like that on top.”
It was on the tip of Robin’s tongue to inform his dad of exactly how long he’d spent in front of a mirror, getting his hair to do exactly what it was doing, when he realized what Dad had handed him.
The perfect opportunity.
“Yeah,” he said as casually as he could manage, his heart banging like a drum. “Let’s face it. My hair is never gonna be straight. Rather like me.” And with that, he attempted to eat some more turkey only his throat had seized up.
Crickets.
Robin swallowed as best he could, waiting for the next words out of their mouths.
Dad looked straight at Mom, and beamed. “I win.” He sat back with a smug expression.
What the fuck?
Mom glared at Robin. “Why couldn’t you have come out on your birthday? I’d have won twenty dollars.”
Robin’s jaw dropped. “You bet on when I’d come out?” Then it hit him. “Wait—you already know I’m gay?”
Mom shrugged. “Gay, bi, we knew it was one or the other.” She stared at him. “What—you thought we didn’t know?” She regarded his dad with a wide grin. “Aw, how cute is that?”
Ryan guffawed. “Yeah, like anyone would think you’re straight. Why’d you think I’m always calling you gay?”
Robin rubbed his chin. “Because you have a limited vocabulary? Because you think calling me gay is an insult? Because you’re a moron?”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Mom sounded a little pissed. She gave them a hard stare. “This will be one meal without you two at each other’s throats.”
Robin glanced at Ryan, catching a flicker of a smile. For one moment they were united. Mom didn’t get it. Bitching at each other was part of what being a twin was all about.
“So, Robin.” Mom’s eyes sparkled. “Are we hearing this now because you have a boyfriend? Is that it? You have a…bae?” She uttered the word cautiously, as if she was tasting it for the first time.
Robin’s face was on fire. Oh God. Kill me now.
“What’s a bae?”
Dad inquired. Ryan snorted.
Before Robin could reply, Mom got in there first. “It’s a word for a boyfriend or girlfriend. I read it someplace. And if Robin has a boyfriend, I think that’s… totes awesome.”
“Mom… please, don’t? That’s really cringey.” Hearing this from the lips of his forty-year-old mom was plain wrong. “And no, I don’t, okay? So let’s drop it.”
“Petra, leave him be.” Dad’s eyes were warm. “He just came out. I think that’s a big enough step for one day, don’t you?”
Robin forgot all about his embarrassment as his chest swelled with love for his parents. He’d suspected deep down that they’d be cool with his announcement, but witnessing this confirmation of his faith in them served to remind him how lucky he was.
A sideways glance at Ryan shocked him into stillness. Ryan wasn’t grinning or making stupid faces like he always did when he figured Mom wasn’t looking, or any of the usual shit he pulled. In fact, he was eyeing Robin with what looked like respect.
Respect? From Ryan?
It was official. The world had come to an end.
No one brought up the topic for the rest of the meal, and Robin’s cheeks lost their heat. He didn’t want to think about a future where his mom was forever trying to prove she was cool. What occupied his mind was the prospect of finding a boyfriend.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered the idea a million times. The problem? Lake Placid, a village with about two-and-a-half thousand inhabitants, wasn’t teeming with gay guys, as far as Robin’s limited knowledge could ascertain. There’d been no one at high school that he could point to as definitely being gay or bi.
Maybe their camouflage was better than mine.
And that had been the real shocker of the day. Have I been that obvious? Did everyone know back in high school? Because that made the situation much worse. If they thought I was gay, and yet no one made a move on me? Well fuck.
Maybe Robin wasn’t as cute and adorable as he hoped he was.
Hey, at least my mom thinks I’m cute.
Yeah. That wasn’t helping.
Robin flopped onto his bed, feeling as stuffed as the turkey he’d eaten way too much of. Not that they’d gotten close to demolishing it. A lot of turkey loomed in his immediate future: turkey dinners, turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey omelets, turkey pizza… Hell, one year, they were still eating his mom’s turkey soup a week before Christmas.
Oh God. Please don’t let her make that turkey sushi again.
This was his favorite time of year. The holidays loomed closer than ever, and Christmas Eve was within sight. That had always been Robin’s best day of the year. Christmas Day was usually an anticlimax, but the anticipation leading up to it? Watching the lights go up in the village, hearing Christmas songs everywhere, seeing everything covered in a blanket of snow…
Magical.
Of course, what would make it perfect this year would be if he had someone to kiss under the mistletoe. He could only imagine the look on his mom’s face if she peeked through the window when he was kissing a guy on the porch.
Well, Robin sure wasn’t gonna kiss him in the house.
A loud rap on his door made him jump. “Busy here, Ryan,” he called out. Not that he was remotely busy, but he’d had to suffer dinner with the guy. That right there practically qualified him for sainthood.
“Do that shit on your own time, man.” Ryan rolled out a dirty chuckle. He pushed the door open, barged into the room, headed straight for Robin’s bed, and dropped onto it like a stone.
Robin heaved a sigh. “Hey, Ryan, come on in and make yourself comfortable.”
Sarcasm was wasted on Ryan. “Thanks.”
He glared at Ryan’s sneakers. “Get them off my comforter. In fact, take ’em off. You know what Mom says about wearing them in the house.”
Ryan snickered as he toed off his sneakers. “Yeah, like any straight guy would complain about shoes on his bed. And you thought we’d be surprised by your announcement, Mr. Prissy?”
Robin narrowed his gaze. “Being neat is not a sign someone is gay, all right?” He grinned. “Unless you think Granddad is gay too?”
“Nah, he’s just old.” Ryan’s eyes gleamed. “So, you’re really gay?”
“Hell no. I figured I’d say it for the hell of it.” Robin rolled his eyes. “Duh.” Then he realized he’d missed an insult. “Hey! I am not prissy. I’m neat, is all.”
Ryan burst out laughing. “Yeah right.” When he stopped, he inclined his head toward the door. “They took it really well, huh? I mean, they didn’t seem shook at all.”
Robin smiled. “I knew they’d be cool with it.” Well, he’d hoped.
“Oh my God. When Mom said it was ‘totes awesome’….” Ryan shook his head. “You don’t think she’ll come out with stuff like that when we bring friends back here, do ya? I swear, if she’d said you being gay was lit, I’d have barfed up my turkey and all the trimmings.” He cocked his head. “D’you think she’s going through a phase?”
“Huh?”
“You know, trying to sound like she’s our age.”
Robin gaped. “A phase? Where do you find shit like that?”
He shrugged. “Something I heard Mom say to Dad in the kitchen just now. They were talking about you.”
Wait—what?
“Back up there. What exactly did Mom say?” Never mind that Ryan had been eavesdropping. This was way more important.
Ryan screwed up his forehead. “Dad said something like, ‘Well, we both knew he’d tell us eventually.’ And Mom said, ‘Yeah, but it’s not like it’s a phase he’s going through. That boy was always going to be gay. You could see it even when he was little.’”
Robin sagged with relief. Heart attack averted.
“Hey!” Ryan sat up, his eyes twinkling. “Maybe you should be the one who’s going to college, and I should work with Dad.”
He guffawed. “You—build paddle canoes with Dad? You hate canoes. Judging by the fact you refused to shower from thirteen to eighteen, you hate the water. And we both know you’d hate being around Dad twenty-four/seven.” He grinned. “Are you sure you’re my twin?” It seemed looks weren’t the only thing they didn’t share.
Ryan laughed, but then his expression grew more sober. “Seriously though? We need to watch what we say around Mom.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan hesitated for a second, and Robin tensed. “No, come on. You started this.”
“The other day, I was on the phone with Deb. You remember Deb? We hung out with her in high school. We still keep in—”
“Losing the will to live here, bro.”
Ryan glared. “Okay! We were talking about something or other that I was gonna send her, so I asked for her email address.”
Robin frowned. “And? You’ve lost me. What does this have to do with Mom?”
“What I actually said was ‘Hey, I need your addy.’ Well, Mom’s face went white. When I was done with the call, she sat me down at the table and asked if there was anything I needed to tell her.” Ryan sighed. “Turns out she’d been on some website where someone said addy was short for Adderall.”
Robin drew in a sharp intake of breath. “She thought you were taking drugs?”
“I know her reaction was a little extra, but I think I gave her the fright of her life. When I saw where she was going, I headed her off pretty damn quick. As if I’d take drugs.”
Robin chuckled. “Yeah. You may be a dick, but you’re not a stupid dick.”
Ryan gave him a shove, and all conversation ended for about five or so minutes while they wrestled on Robin’s bed, the air filled with grunts and expletives. They ended up on the rug, where Robin got his twin in a head lock.
“Cut it out, you two!”
They froze at Mom’s yell. Robin let go of Ryan and sat with his back to the bed. “I’m too full to do this anyway.”
Ryan nodded. “Besides, you’d only have lost.” He joined Robin, both a little breathless from the ex
ertion.
That deserved a derisive snort. “In your dreams.”
Ryan scrutinized him. “Bro? What you told Dad about not having a boyfriend… you were telling the truth, right? Because you’d tell me if there was someone, wouldn’t you?”
Robin threw him a mock punch. “Yes, I was telling the truth. There’s no one, but if Ryan Reynolds unexpectedly becomes available? I’ll be on the first bus outta here to hunt him down.”
Ryan laughed. “Okay, you got good taste. He’s definitely a goal.”
“And no, I will not tell you if I’m seeing someone.”
“Bro.” Ryan jutted out his lower lip and made puppy dog eyes.
Robin creased up. “And if that’s your attempt at pouting, give it up. That hasn’t worked on me since we were nine.”
“Dude, you suck. When we were juniors, I told you Libby Davenport and I were dating.”
That earned another snort. “Really? The whole of Lake Placid knew you were dating her, because you told everyone. I think you even posted about it on the village’s Facebook page.”
“Boys? Wanna get in here and watch a movie with us?” Mom hollered from the living room.
“What movie?” Robin yelled.
“Christmas at the Plaza.”
Robin gave Ryan a quizzical glance, and Ryan shrugged. “Never heard of it.”
“What channel?” Robin hollered.
“Hallmark.”
Ryan grimaced, but then the door opened, and Dad poked his head around it. “Guys?” he said in a low voice. “It’s Thanksgiving, you’re both here, so make your Mom happy and go watch a romantic movie with her. Because that’ll make me happy, and you wouldn’t begrudge your old man a little happiness, would you?”
Robin frowned. “How will it make you happy?”
Dad grinned. “Because then when I say I have to take a leak, she won’t wonder why I don’t come back before the end of the movie. I hate chick flicks.”
Chick flicks? God, what the hell are they reading to come up with this crap? But Robin couldn’t argue with his dad. Not on Thanksgiving. “We’re on our way.” He dug his elbow into Ryan’s ribs. “Aren’t we?”
