My eyes flicker to Sam. ‘Uh, yeah.’
Ollie, in a paisley shirt, crosses his arms. ‘I see. Since when?’
‘About two years ago,’ I say, leaving enough room for plausibility. ‘Someone I work with.’
‘Plus, I’m Greek.’
We all look at Sam.
‘That’s handy,’ Ollie says. ‘Why did you stay in the nudist hotel, then?’
Oh God.
‘Well…’
The clang of bells rings out, and Alec lets out a yelp.
‘That’ll be the takeaway,’ Sam says, heading for the stairs. ‘Sit, sit. Dinner is served.’
Sam’s already laid the table, lighting candles, making this one of the most dysfunctional romantic nights I’ve ever experienced. He turned the music down a little, changing the playlist, but something about hearing Etta James sing ‘At Last’ at this moment is disconcerting.
We take our seats, me sitting opposite Ollie, a seat empty next to me for Sam.
‘I grew up in a house of nudity,’ Alec, the gift that keeps on giving, says.
‘Oh, right, cool,’ I say, Sam plating up my Chinese order and putting it in front of me first. ‘Do you like being nude, then?’
Am I really asking Alec about this?
‘I don’t mind it,’ Ollie jests.
Alec nudges him, giggling in a flirtatious way that makes me fear this Chinese food I’ve just swallowed will be on my plate again.
What a terrible idea this night was.
‘I think we should all be nude,’ Alec says.
‘I agree,’ Sam says, taking his seat opposite Alec, after ensuring we all had our meals and drinks. ‘Would you like us to be nude now?’
Everyone laughs, me extra loud.
‘I’d be very comfortable being nude, yeah,’ Alec carries on. ‘The Laurel Hotel has excellent reviews, from what I’ve heard. I tried to convince Ollie we should stay there once, but he wasn’t keen.’
‘Just to clarify, we’re not getting nude, are we?’ I ask.
Alec laughs. ‘No, keep your clothes on.’
‘What are your hobbies, then, Ollie?’ Sam asks.
Ollie thinks for a moment, like he has lots of them, and it’s too hard to choose only one.
‘Reading,’ he says, ever the cliché. ‘I’m writing a thesis right now on queer identity inA Christmas Carol.’
‘Oh, right,’ Sam says, but he keeps his tone even, distant, like he’s bored. I hide my smirk with a bite of food. ‘Is there any?’
‘Any what?’
‘Queer identity inA Christmas Carol,’ Sam says. ‘I’d love to hear about it.’
