Sam and the Sixth Floor Scrooge: Magical Mistletoe Book One

by Abi Aledo

  Evan shook his head. He’d had seen all those movies as well. He knew that they were the equivalent of winning the lottery, too. “Nah, even as a kid I knew it wasn't practical. I didn't have time to waste on those kinds of childish dreams. I wanted security and a good salary more than I wanted to see my name in lights.”

  He shifted, stretching out his legs, and realized he was getting stiff and that it was getting colder. He hadn’t really noticed either. Evan glanced at his phone, surprised to see it had been almost an hour. Any other time, he would have been checking his phone constantly answering work emails or reading files, but to be honest he hadn't thought of work once since he and Sam had started talking.

  Evan didn't know why he was telling this to Sam. He never told this to anybody. He’d only had a few mouthfuls of wine and he wasn’t close to being drunk. Maybe it was the situation or maybe there was something about Sam that made him feel comfortable, made him feel like they'd known each other for a long time instead of really just meeting. Maybe being trapped with someone did that, creating artificial intimacy.

  Evan didn't really know. He just knew that he found himself telling Sam things he hadn't even thought of in years. Watching his mom try to stay cheerful even as the bills piled up. Trying not to show how disappointed he was at the practical gifts they got, knowing they were more important than whatever toy was popular right then but unable to completely stifle the want, especially when he heard other kids at school bragging about their gifts.

  He even told Sam about the year that their car had broken down right before Christmas and their mother had taken the gas bill money to get it fixed because without it she couldn't work. They had cut the gas off and the three of them had spent Christmas day in the car with the heater running to stay warm, eating McDonald's. Even then his mom had managed to have a few little things wrapped for them, stuff she had picked up from thrift stores, but new to them.

  “I suppose you always got everything you asked for at Christmas growing up.” Evan knew there was bitterness in his voice but he couldn’t help it. Sam hadn’t said but Evan guessed that St. Nicholas was as in St. Nicholas hotels. It was an old-money family and if he hadn’t been related to them, Evan figured he’d have thrown in that disclaimer. It was easy for Sam to tout the joys of Christmas when it didn’t remind him of watching other people have while you didn’t.

  Sam shrugged, seemingly not at all bothered by Evan’s tone. He took a bite of cookie and chewed and swallowed before he spoke. “Not always everything I asked for but Wilbur seemed to know what I really wanted, not just all the stuff I saw and whined about.”

  “Your dad?”

  “The butler.” Sam shook his head. “No, that’s not exactly true. Wilbur was the butler, my nanny, my chauffeur, my tutor, but mostly, he was my family. You see, I’m one of those poor little rich kids left to their own devices because their parents were too busy with work and socializing to spend time with them.”

  Evan frowned, thinking of how his mother always made time to spend with them, even working two jobs and exhausted. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. My parents suck and Wilbur was awesome. Still is. He taught me how to make these cookies actually. I was lucky I had him. And then later, I had my friends from college and work.”

  It sounded like Sam had made a family to suit himself when the one he was born with didn’t make him happy. Evan admired that. He admired anyone who shaped the world to fit them.

  As if he heard his thoughts, Sam reached over and put a hand on Evan's arm. Evan could feel the warmth through the cotton of his shirt sleeve. “Looks like neither one of us has let crappy childhood Christmases define who we are. Maybe they aren't that important after all, at least not how we spent them, just what we learned from them.”

  He was wrong though. Evan had let his Christmases and birthdays and all the rest of it define who he was. It was the reason he was so successful, was the reason he worked so hard, and it was the reason he was going into the office on Christmas Eve and probably would have spent half of Christmas day there as well.

  Evan didn't believe in miracles but maybe a sprig of mistletoe, a broken elevator, and his own personal red-haired Spirit of Christmas meant something. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him something and maybe now he was ready to listen.

  He reached for his coat and stuck his hand into the pocket and pulled out the envelope. Sam watched curiously, eyes widening with surprise when Evan held up the mistletoe.

  “You just carry mistletoe around with you?”

  Evan grinned and shook his head. “No, but maybe I should start.”

  Sam grinned right back and leaned in, lips brushing softly against Evans. “Well, you won't see me complaining if you do.” He kissed him again, less gently this time. His mouth tasted like cinnamon and sugar from the cookies, dark and sweet from the wine, and from what Evan suspected was just Sam.

  Evan dropped the mistletoe and cupped his hands around Sam’s face, deepening the kiss. Sam groaned, the sound vibrating against Evan’s mouth before he pulled away, hands coming up to rest on Evan’s, licking his lips in a way that made Evan want to pull him right back in.

  His eyes met Evan’s and there was a desire there to match Evan’s own. “As fun as that is, they could open those doors any minute and I really don’t want to be interrupted once we do this for real.”

  Evan collapsed back against the wall, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, very conscious of the half-hard bulge between his thighs. Where was all his level-headedness now? He was making out in an elevator like a teenager. And it felt great, but Sam was right. When Evan got his hands on Sam, he wanted to take his time, stretch him out, and enjoy every inch of that long, lean body. He didn’t want a half-clothed quickie.

  “So, we need to find something else to do. Something that doesn’t involve touching each other.”

  “How do you feel about card games?” Sam grabbed a small, gaily wrapped package, ripping into it with glee and revealing a deck.

  And that’s where they were when the elevator jolted again and the doors finally slid open, sitting on the floor, engrossed in a cutthroat game of Old Maid. The building super chuckled when he saw them.

  “Looks like you boys are keeping occupied. Sorry, it took so long. I was at my son’s house and I hadn’t even noticed my dang phone was dead. The manager wound up calling my son’s phone to reach me and it’s about an hour’s drive back.”

  Evan stood up, stretching and reached down, helping Sam up. “No problem. Sorry for disturbing you on Christmas Eve.”

  “Well, now maybe the manager will listen and get this thing replaced.”

  Evan planned on having a little talk with him about potential liability to make sure. Still, he owed the old thing a debt of gratitude. It had given him his best Christmas Eve in a long time.

  The Super locked the doors open and put an out of order sign up. “Gotta get one of these on every floor.” He chuckled and patted his stomach. “Burn off a little of that Christmas meal just in time for seconds.”

  His comment made Evan realize that he was hungry. The cookies were great, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch and they weren’t going to fill him up unless he ate the whole tin. Once more Sam seemed to be on the same wavelength.

  He gestured to his stack of gifts “I need to put these in my car, but after, would you like to get something to eat?”

  Absolutely. He wasn’t ready to let go of Sam just yet, even though they’d spent almost two hours trapped in a metal box together. Had already planned to ask him out after Christmas. But...“What about your party?”

  “I already texted them I wasn’t going to make it.” He shrugged and laughed. “I show up there without my cookies, they’d probably put me out, anyway.”

  Evan figured Sam was exaggerating, but he didn’t care. He really wanted to spend some more time with him and he didn’t mind stealing a little bit of the Christmas joy that was Sam for himself tonight. “Okay then, yeah, I’d like tha
t. I just need to make a phone call.” He stepped to the side while Sam gathered his things and dialed a familiar number. “Momma? Merry Christmas”

  “You’re calling early this year, sweetheart, is something wrong?” His mother’s voice went from warm to worried.

  “No,” he cleared his throat. “Actually, I thought I might stop by tomorrow if there’s still room.”

  “Of course, and when you get here, I’m gonna smack your butt for even asking.”

  The happiness in her voice made Evan a little ashamed. He’d been doing what Sam’s parents had done, giving expensive gifts instead of himself. He’d spent so much time thinking about his own feelings he’d forgotten how much Christmas meant to his mother. He saw her and his sister regularly but he knew it wasn’t the same as being surrounded by her entire family at once.

  “I love you, Momma. See you tomorrow.”

  He hung up the phone and Sam was next to him, arms full, and a sweet smile on his face. Evan grabbed a few packages, lightening the load so Sam could at least see where he was going. Sam’s smile widened to a full-on happy grin, and he shifted the rest of his packages and held out a hand to Evan. “Come on, let’s go find an all-night diner.”

  One Year Later

  Evan looked at the knit monstrosity in front of him. Not only was it hideous but it actually lit up. He didn’t know if the fact that it featured his favorite football team made it better or worse. He looked up at his boyfriend’s eager face and swallowed hard. “It’s, you know...thanks?”

  There was a snorting sound and Sam covered his mouth with his hand, body trembling before he gave up and collapsed on the bed, laughing. “Oh my God, your face, Babe!” He sat up and grabbed the sweater out of Evan’s hands, tossing it to the side and leaning in for a kiss.

  Unlike the sweater, Evan greeted Sam’s mouth eagerly. He never got tired of kissing Sam. That’s why he frowned, hands reaching out to keep him close when Sam pulled back with a sigh. “As much as I’d like to continue this, we’ve gotta go. We can’t be late after I missed it completely last year.”

  Evan groaned. He knew Sam was right. He’d already gotten a text from Darla, Sam’s best friend and the co-host of the party this year. They might have become his friends too over the last year, but they weren’t going to forgive him if they missed Sam’s cookies two years in a row.

  “You don’t actually have to wear the sweater, out in public at least.” Sam waggled his brows. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in just that and nothing else though when we get home.”

  It turned out that they weren’t Ugly Sweater parties at all, his boyfriend just had terrible taste during the holidays. He glanced around their apartment which was covered in tinsel and lights and shook his head. At least the rest of the year, Sam’s taste was, he thought of the closet full of tee shirts hanging next to his dress shirts... well, at least it wasn’t gaudy.

  They grabbed everything and headed out, and Evan stopped just outside the apartment door. “Crap, I forgot something. You go on, wait for me at the elevator.” Sam frowned but nodded.

  Evan knew he was being weird. He was the organized one, Sam was the one with his head always in the clouds over some new experiment or the paper he was writing. Evan made it a habit now to check Sam before he left to make sure he had his wallet and keys. He’d spent too many mornings when they first moved in together, opening the door to a sheepish Sam who hadn’t realized till he got to the car that he didn’t have his keys.

  Evan ran back into the bedroom and quickly stripped off his perfectly nice gray sweater, slipping on the one Sam bought him. He threw his coat on, buttoning it over the sweater, and then reached into his nightstand, grabbing the small velvet box inside. Then he headed back out, stopping to touch his fingers to his lips for a moment. He reached up with those same fingers and tapped the sprig of dried mistletoe that hung over their bedroom door, for luck. He never did find out where it came from. No one else in the building had received any and no one admitted to sticking it to his door.

  Sam was waiting at the elevator, humming “Frosty the Snowman”. His headband this year featured a Santa hat with Yoda ears and his sweater had actual garland wrapped around it. It was sad that Evan still thought he was gorgeous. Love had smothered his good taste.

  They stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed. Instead of pushing a button, Evan dropped his bags. Sam looked over at him with a worried frown, confused as to why the elevator wasn’t moving.

  “Oh crap! We’re not stuck again, are we?”

  Evan shook his head and opened his coat, revealing his sweater. “Happy anniversary.”

  Sam giggled. “I knew I’d brainwashed you to join me in my madness. The next thing I know, you’ll be singing Christmas carols.”

  “Maybe next year.” He took a deep breath and got down on one knee, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the box and opened it, revealing the simple, twisted gold Mobius band

  “Oh my God!” Sam’s own packages dropped to the ground with much less care than Evan’s. His face flushed pink and his eyes were shining.

  “Or the year after that, or the one after that, because I’d really like to spend every Christmas for the rest of my life with you.” His voice caught, and he blinked back the moisture in his eyes.

  Sam nodded and held out his hand and there was that grin that Evan loved, the one that contained multitudes of joy. “Yes, yeah. Let’s do that. As long as we don’t have to spend them in this elevator.”

  Evan slipped the band on his finger. It fit perfectly. He closed his fingers around Sam’s, both of their hands trembling a little, and stood up. His heart was so full he could feel it beating everywhere in his body. He pulled Sam into his arms and kissed him. “I don’t know, I’m pretty fond of this elevator. I found the love of my life here.”

  “Yeah? Wait. You mean the cookies, don’t you? You’re marrying me for my cookies.”

  Evan laughed. “Of course.”

  Books By This Author

  Bump and Run

  What happens when an immovable object meets an irresistible force? Wallace Dawson and Jesiah Hodges play on opposite teams on the field but find out that they play for the same one off the field. The only problem is, they each have their own ideas of who should be the receiver.

  Wall knows exactly who he is, and he’s not ashamed of loving the D. Sure he has to be discreet but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a good time. Especially when he hooks up with Jez Hodges. The only problem is, Jez isn’t willing to take as good as he gives and Wall just don’t play that way, even if his feelings for Jez are more than he expected.

  Jez likes to hook up with men sometimes. That doesn’t mean anything except that he likes to get off. Hooking up with Wall is different and the other man has him trying things he never expected, but he still has a line. Well, he might do anything to get off, but he won’t do that.

  If they want to find out if what they have is more than just a fling, something’s gotta give, or rather, somebody has to got to bend(over).

  Bump and Run is a high heat, super short and sweet m/m erotic sports romance with a happy ending. The perfect bite-sized treat.