Magic & Mistletoe (13 page)

“Well, nothing big, but you know… a little something that shows you like where your relationship is headed and you want more.”

“Oh, is that all.” Andrew’s tone dripped sarcasm and he looked at her with what he hoped was a “what the fuck?” expression.

It had no effect on Abi whatsoever; she just patted his hand and smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

Andrew and Harry went to the cinema on Saturday night. Harry, like the secret teenager he was, wanted to see the last
Hunger Games
movie. He said none of the others would go with him and he didn’t want to wait for it to come out on DVD. Andrew had agreed to go and then spent the next thirty minutes trying to google what happened in the first three films.

He’d enjoyed it much more than he thought he would. It was worth it on the drive home, experiencing Harry animatedly discussing how great the movie was.

They stopped at Andrew’s flat that night, but he was so knackered from work. They only managed a couple of lazy handjobs before falling asleep. Harry had to do clean-up because Andrew was too tired to move.

Andrew also had to work on Sunday, so he regretfully got up and left Harry in bed looking sleep-rumpled and warm and oh-so tempting. It wasn’t until he was halfway to work that he realised he’d let another person stay in his home when he wasn’t there.
And it didn’t feel wrong
.

His phone rang as he was parking. Harry’s number flashed up on the screen.

“Hey,” Andrew answered as he got out of his car and locked up.

“Hey.” Harry’s voice was rough and breathy in Andrew’s ear and it sent a shiver down his spine. He hated work sometimes. “I just wanted to say have a nice day. I wasn’t really awake when you left.”

Andrew smiled into the phone. “Thanks.”

“I hope those nasty Christmas shoppers don’t run you ragged.”

“Me too.” He swiped his pass through the door lock and slipped inside into the relative warmth. “I have to go, but I’ll see you Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah. Have a think about what you want to do.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Andrew hung up, and sighed as he resigned himself to a long day.

Abi met Andrew after work on Monday. “So, why aren’t you seeing him before Thursday?”

Andrew waved at his colleagues before ushering her out through the big double doors at the front of the shop. “Because he has a works party tonight and I have to stay until closing on Tuesday and Wednesday.”

“That’s a bit shit.”

Andrew steered her out of the way of an oncoming mother and stroller. “It’s only three days. I saw him yesterday.”

“That’s true. You had another sleepover, didn’t you?”

“God, you make it sound like we did each other’s hair and nails.”

Abi laughed loudly. A few people looked their way. “I’m picturing the two of you doing just that now.”

He ignored her and gestured at the shops surrounding them. “Any idea where we should start?” Andrew hoped she did, because he had no idea what sort of present to get.

She looked at him as though he’d spoken gibberish. “Of course I know where to start. I even know what you should get him.”

Well, thank fuck for that
. This might turn out to be less painful than he was expecting.

Or not.

He stared at her in barely concealed horror. “You have got to be kidding me.” He glanced down at the Christmas pudding men’s thong staring back at them—complete with a sprig of holly and a nice red berry on the top.

“Oh my God, of course I’m kidding. I just thought it was funny.”

Andrew relaxed and unclenched his fists.

She started walking again and he dutifully followed her. “You said he watches
The Walking Dead
, yes?”

“Yeah, he loves it. He couldn’t believe I’d never seen it.”

“Has he got any of it on DVD?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, how about you get him the box set of the first couple of seasons and suggest you watch it together? That way it’s not something over the top, but shows that you want to spend time with him.”

Andrew mulled it over. It was a good idea, although Abi was probably putting too much thought into the meaning of it. “I reckon he’ll just be happy to be able to watch it all again, whether it’s with me or not.”

He picked up the box labelled “Seasons 1—4” and tapped the cover. “I hardly think zombies count as a romantic gesture.”

She slapped him on the arm. “No, but the thought behind it does. So go buy it, and be quiet.”

Andrew did as he was told. All joking aside, it was a pretty good present. Harry was going to love it.

“Are you ready?” Harry glared at Jason where he lay stretched out on the sofa.

“Do I have to come?” Jason whined. He already had his shoes and coat on, so it wasn’t as if he was putting much effort into resisting. “I could be in the pub by now.”

Harry leaned down and dug his fingers into Jason’s armpits, laughing when Jason flailed in outrage and promptly fell onto the floor. “It’s your fault I have to do this, so you can share my pain.”

Jason stood and straightened out his clothes. “How is it my fault?”

“You called him over that day in the coffee shop and then left me with him. So everything that happened after is down to you.” He grabbed Jason by the shoulder and turned him to face the door.

“Most people would thank me for getting them the man of their dreams, not torture me with last-minute Christmas shopping,” Jason muttered but let Harry usher him towards the door.

“Look. The shops shut at ten, so we have approximately three hours to find something. I’m not going shopping twice.” He went to shut the door behind them, when Jason stopped dead and pointed up at the mistletoe above them. “Seriously?” Harry boggled.

“It’s bad luck if you refuse to kiss, and I don’t want to jinx anything so close to Christmas.”

Harry sighed but leaned forward to accept Jason’s quick kiss on the cheek. “I still think you made that up.”

“It’s true. Look it up for yourself.”

After their encounter in the forest, Harry didn’t want to incur any more bad luck.
Shit, not that Melia is bad luck in any way, shape, or form
, he thought quickly, not wanting to upset her in case she was listening or watching or whatever it was she did. His phone remained blessedly silent, and he patted his pocket reassuringly, ignoring the look Jason gave him.

By the time they got to the shops, most of the Christmas rush had died down. That was one of the main reasons Harry liked coming to Cribbs at night. Well, not
liked
, exactly, but was more willing to come shopping. They didn’t have to fight their way through the throng or queue to buy anything.

“Right, then.” Jason rubbed his hands and grinned. “Let’s do this.”

Harry was regretting bringing him already. What had made him think Jason would be any better at picking out a present than Harry was? He should have brought Karen instead. But they were here now, and as he’d told Jason, there was no way he was coming here again.

They avoided Waterstones, despite Jason’s numerous attempts to get Harry to go in and say hello. “Why not?” Jason asked after his third attempt was met with a firm headshake and a scowl.

“Because he knows I hate shopping, especially at this time of year. He’ll want to know what I’m doing here.”

Jason shrugged. “Make something up.”

“Yes, because introducing lies to my new and fragile relationship is a smart thing to do.”

Jason turned and stared at him. “For fuck’s sake, I meant a tiny white lie, like maybe you were helping me get something for Karen—which I should probably do, by the way. I wasn’t suggesting you weave some intricate web of deceit that will make him hate you when he ultimately discovers the truth, which you know he will.”

“Um….” Harry was speechless, which hardly ever happened without magical intervention.

“Sorry.” Jason’s cheeks flushed. “Karen and I were rewatching
Game of Thrones
all weekend,” he said as though that explained it. “It obviously messed with my brain.”

“Obviously.”

“By the way, Karen remarked on Andrew’s resemblance to a certain character. And talking of Jon Snow lookalikes, are you absolutely sure you don’t want to—”

“For the last time, we are not going in there. Now come on and help me pick something.”

Jason huffed but thankfully dropped the subject. “Do you have any idea at all of what to get him?” Harry shook his head. “Well, what does he like?”

That was easy, they’d spent enough time talking the past few times they’d been together. Harry felt he knew loads about Andrew’s likes and dislikes. “He likes cooking and wears the most ridiculous fluffy socks because his feet get cold. He likes expensive whisky and beer but not wine, unless it’s sparkling.”

“Picky fucker.”

Harry poked him in the side but conceded that he wasn’t wrong.

Jason messed with his phone a minute before handing it to Harry with a smile. “What about this? You might have to order it, but Karen’s still got Amazon Prime, so we can ask her to get it. It’ll be here by Wednesday.”

The book Jason picked boasted “100 Ways with Whisky and Food.”

Harry groaned. “We can’t get him this. He works in a bloody bookshop.”

“So? That just means he likes books more than the rest of us.”

Harry wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t have any other ideas. “You think he’d like this? Really?”

“You know him better than me. But if he likes to cook and he likes whisky, then a book about cooking
with
whisky sounds about perfect. Plus you get to eat what he cooks, so it’s a win all round.” He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “If you’re worried about just getting him a book, then buy him a nice bottle of whisky to go with it and you’re set.”

It wasn’t anything Harry would have come up with for Andrew, but the more he thought about it, the more the idea grew on him. “Yeah, okay. Can you ask Karen to order it for me?”

“Sure. I’ll send her a quick text now.”

When he’d send it and put his phone away, Harry caught his attention again. “Thanks for this. I doubt I’d have thought of anything half as good.”

Jason smiled. “Yeah, you would have, eventually. I’ve just had a lot of practice at picking out presents lately. Karen is a slave driver.”

“Remind me to thank her later.”

“You know, since you’re getting that book from Amazon, there was no need for us to come here. We could save it from being a wasted trip if we—”

“You never give up, do you?”

“Nope.” Jason gestured behind him. “C’mon. Let’s just go say hello and then we can leave.”

“I don’t know why you’re so keen on seeing him. He’s
my
boyfriend. What?” Harry added when Jason’s smile got even wider.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that about anyone.” Jason sniffed theatrically and Harry thumped him in the arm. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m happy for you. He seems like a great bloke, which is even more reason why we should go say hello. You’ll probably make his day.”

Harry doubted that, but he let Jason lead him into Waterstones and up to the counter. When they got there and couldn’t see Andrew anywhere, he realised he had no idea what Andrew actually did there. Harry had just assumed Andrew worked on the shop floor, but now he felt guilty for never asking.

Andrew wasn’t on the tills, so Harry turned to grab Jason and leave again, disappointed that they hadn’t seen him. Which was Jason’s fault for building him up to it. Except Jason wasn’t next to him anymore—he was leaning over the counter and talking to one of the staff members, who glanced at Harry, grinned, and pointed to the back corner of the shop.

“Did you just tell her we were together?” he hissed as soon as Jason got near. “Because you do realise he might not be out at work, and now you’ve gone—”

Jason cut him off with a hand over his mouth. “Give me some credit.
Jesus
.” He moved his hand but carried on talking, not letting Harry get a word in. “I just asked if Andrew was working today, and she asked if I was Harry, because apparently Andrew talks about you all the time, but I wasn’t what she’d pictured. So I pointed out that no, I wasn’t, but you were.”

Harry tried to tamp down the smile threatening to burst out, but judging by Jason’s knowing expression, he saw it anyway. “And what did she say?”

“She said that you were more like what she had in mind and she could see why Andrew wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Of course, Harry blushed then, making Jason laugh.

“Stop being so needy, and let’s go find your boyfriend.” Jason stalked off around the corner, leaving Harry to catch up.

Hurrying, he almost bumped straight into the back of him. Jason had stopped near the Crime section, and Harry grabbed onto his shoulder. “Where is he?”

“Over there talking to that guy.” Jason pointed to the left and Harry glanced over to see Andrew chatting animatedly to an older bloke who was far too good-looking for Harry’s peace of mind. He was maybe midthirties—tall, with stupid blond hair—and from the way he was smiling at Andrew, Harry was pretty sure he was also single and hitting on him.

Jason pulled a book from the shelf and stared at the back cover.

Harry saw the author name and scoffed. “Put that back. I’ve got all the Patricia Cornwell books at the flat. You know this.”

“I’m not going to buy it, you idiot. I’m just trying to look a little less like we’re spying on them. Unlike you and your death glares.”

“Piss off. I’m not giving them death glares.” And he wasn’t. Andrew had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t mess around once he was seeing somebody, and Harry believed him. Seeing some bloke hitting on him still got Harry’s hackles up, but not because he didn’t trust Andrew. The guy was good-looking, and judging from his body language, he was confident in a way Harry wasn’t. Andrew listened intently to whatever the guy had to say, and as far as Harry could see, there were no awkward pauses or stupid comments. Insecurity settled like a sharp ache inside him and Harry rubbed at his chest with the heel of his hand.