“Pffft. Leave? And deny you the sheer awesomeness that is my wonderful company? To make you live without my exquisite wit and irresistible charms?” Tuesday laughed. “Yeah, right. Mmm, you fed me. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Oh, is that all it took?”
“Yup. I’m a very simple alien.”
Ozzie chuckled and squeezed Tuesday’s hand. “Babe, there is nothing simple about you.”
Tuesday snorted.
“Don’t worry.” Ozzie leaned back against Tuesday, hugging his arms tighter around him. “I like you just like this.”
“Good. I like you like this too.”
Ozzie smiled, enjoying the closeness and watching the fire.
Tuesday had been right about his wish, more or less.
What Ozzie had thought about as he placed the log into the flames was making this feeling last forever. It was still new and a little scary, but Ozzie had no doubt in his mind that what was between him and Tuesday was special, and he never wanted to be without it.
Maybe they should have that chat now, to find out what Tuesday wanted to do?—
“Hey, baby.” Tuesday licked his lips slowly, breaking Ozzie out of his thoughts. “Any of these holidays involve orgies? Ritualistic orgasms? Maybe super-hot tentacle sex?”
“Uh, historically, I’m gonna say no.” Ozzie laughed. “Can’t say I’ve ever?—”
“So, how do you feel about making some new traditions?”
“You mean…?”
Tuesday winked.
“Oh! Yup. Yes. Good. Really,reallygood.”
“That’s what I thought.”
nine
There was indeed plenty of hot tentacle sex to be had, and Ozzie could not be happier.
He still hadn’t gotten around to asking Tuesday about his future plans, but there never seemed to be a good time to bring it up. They were always having such a good time, and he was worried that he’d somehow spoil it.
Or worse—force Tuesday to make a decision right then and there, one that resulted in him leaving.
Shit, shit, shit.
Maybe tonight would be the night.
It just had to be.
They were headed over to Ozzie’s parents’ house tonight for their family Christmas party, and Ozzie was already sweating bullets. He’d dressed comfortably, in a simple green sweater and jeans that he hoped passed as an effort to be seasonal.
Tuesday, of course, was wearing a bright red Santa sweater, green slacks, glittery red boots, and his black fuzzy shawl.
It was loud, obnoxious, and wonderfully Tuesday.
Ozzie squeezed Tuesday’s hand as they walked up the snow-covered sidewalk that led to the front door of his childhood home. The place was decorated to the fullest, with no piece of thehouse or yard left uncovered in lights, garland, or some kind of inflatable creature.
He had not inherited that particular gene.
