“Hooking up with someone?”
“No.”
“Rubbing up against someone?”
“No.”Tom did his best to hide any trace of lying.He had wanted to tell Kirsten, but he wasn’t sure what Randall’s closet status was.If she spread the word that the Hot Mall Santa was gay, or even bi, he might even lose his job.Tom also didn’t want it getting back to him that he was blabbing about their hookup.After this week, their hookup didn’t feel like just a hookup anymore.
Kirsten studied his face for an extra moment.She could usually squeeze the truth out of him by staring in his eyes and claiming he was lying over and over until he confessed.She should really be a detective, or a kindergarten teacher.
Before she could continue her interrogation, Tom moved to another section to clean up.The store needed it.
* * *
Tompretty much stumbled to his car.Working in retail was like picking up after the world’s messiest, most inconsiderate roommate.Customers had no concept of putting things back where they came from.They thought just because Tom made an hourly wage, they could leave the store in disarray.All that reaching, squatting, lifting, and carrying turned Tom’s muscles to sludge.
He sat in his car for a second before starting the engine.It would all be over soon, he reminded himself.The holiday season was a sprint, not a marathon.Just make it to January, and then you can collapse.
While driving out of the mall parking lot, he saw a familiar presence waiting at the bus stop.His red suit glowed under the street lamp.Tom pulled up to the curb.
“What are you doing here?”Tom asked.
“Waiting,” Randall said.
Tom didn’t realize he took the bus.Most people he worked with drove.Oakville was a town that had a drive-thru everything.
“Where’s the bus?”Tom asked.
“You tell me,” Randall said.He kept his Santa suit buttoned up to fight against the cold.
“Does it still come this time of night?”
“I hope so.”It seemed even Santa’s Workshop was staying open later for the holidays.Randall rocked back and forth to stay warm in the bus shelter.
“I can give you a ride home,” Tom said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”Tom patted the passenger seat head rest, like this was a no-brainer.
“I’m out of the way from your apartment, I think.”
“I don’t care.You’re freezing.Is that suit insulated?”
“Not at all.”
“You need to speak to your elves about that.”Tom cocked his head.“Get in.”
Randall’s smile gave Tom a blast of heat stronger than what came through the vent.
Once he got in his car, Randall pulled up turn-by-turn directions on his phone to guide him.Now that they were together, in an enclosed space, a sense of awkwardness overcame Tom.They had joked and talked through notes, but would that translate face-to-face?Tom had met up with guys he chatted with online, where they had great text chemistry, but it fizzled in person.
“Thanks.”Randall raked a hand through his hair, which just like at The Wounded Soldier, had not been flattened by his Santa hat.
“Of course.I couldn’t let Santa Claus freeze.”Tom kept his hands at ten and two.“And thanks for the gifts.”
“Likewise.I had no idea Hayes was the first president to use a typewriter!I hope you get to use the sunscreen.”
There was something to his voice, like maybe he could be the one who’d rub it on Tom.Or so Tom hoped.
