As Noah had predicted, the voluntary fire crew won for their float based on ‘A Christmas Carol’. They had a huge guy playing the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the kids had flocked to the vehicle as he handed out small gifts from a sack.
Thursday night arrived with a fresh fall of snow, a gentle dusting that made the street outside look as if it had been sifted with powdered sugar.
Noah had texted:
My place tonight? Your call.
Eli glanced at the duffel and came to a decision.
Yeah. I need to show you something.
Three dots appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.
Noah: That sounds very ominous and slightly hot. Come over whenever you’re ready.
Eli snorted despite the knot in his stomach. He pulled the sketchbook out and set it on the bed. It looked innocent, a slightly battered book.
It’s now or never.
Eli spent ten minutes choosing what to wear, then changed his mind and went with totally different choices. He went downstairs to grab his coat.
“I’m going to Noah’s,” he called out.
“Will I see you again this evening?” Aileen chuckled. “Stupid question. Forget I asked. See you tomorrow.”
The wind whipped around him as he stepped outside, and that was enough to make him reach into his pocket for his car keys. He drove carefully, conscious of the snow covering the road. There were few cars out, and he wondered if that meant another storm was on its way.
When he reached Noah’s house, he had to smile.
Colored lights framed the windows, and by the front door sat a trussed-up Christmas tree in a bucket. As he went to knock, the door opened.
“Hey.” Noah’s smile was warm. “Come in before you become a snowman.”
Eli gestured to the tree. “Is this staying out here?”
“I’ll bring it in soon. For now it’s fine where it is.” Noah rolled his eyes. “It’s a tree, for God’s sake, I think it can cope with a bit of snow.”
Eli stepped into the warm interior, clutching his duffel. Noah glanced at it.
“Have you brought pajamas?” He grinned. “Not that you need them. You’re like a walking electric blanket.”
Eli smiled. “Not pajamas, no.”
Noah stilled. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The scent of whatever soap Noah used filled Eli’s nostrils.
In the living room, a fire burned behind the grate, and lamps bathed the room in warm light. Noah helped him out of his coat, his gaze returning to the duffel.
“The ominous thing… is it in there?”
Eli nodded. “And it isnothot, but maybe a bit weird.” He removed his boots.
Noah grinned. “Weird I can handle. Hot was optional.” He sat on the couch, and Eli joined him, close enough that their knees brushed. His heart pounded as he reached into the bag and withdrew the sketchbook. His hands felt clammy.
This is stupid. I’ve slept with this guy. I’ve watched him fall asleep with his head on my chest. How could showing him a drawing be harder?
But it was.
