The Holiday List (The Script Club 4)

The next night, Chet helped us tackle a lava lamp made with a plastic bottle, water, vegetable oil, Alka Seltzer, and food coloring. Strange but cool. He also led an experiment making rainbow celery with food dye. I had no idea what the purpose of that one was, but I now had six stalks of blue celery in my fridge that I’d agreed not to throw away while Linc was out of town. That was going to be a tough promise to keep. They were already disgusting. I’d do it, though…even if I had to buy a second gallon of milk to hide them from view.

It had been tempting to sit back and let them do their thing, but Chet kept me involved, measuring ingredients and taking notes, which supposedly was vital to prove a hypothesis. Don’t ask me what we were proving. I was just happy to play along. Chet made science fun. He was engaging, knowledgeable, and he had a knack for speaking to Linc as if he were a fellow scientist or a valued apprentice.

And he had a way of looking at me when he didn’t think I was watching that made me warm all over. No joke. I’d sat across from him at my outdoor table on a chilly November evening dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans, sweating my balls off while gingerly dipping celery stalks in neon blue water. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that effect on me.

Later in the week, I’d stopped to say hello when I spotted him opening the hatch of an older-model white Highlander. The conversation hadn’t lasted long. We’d covered the weather, the broken lamplight at the end of the block, and the mac-and-cheese order I’d just picked up from a local deli. That last one had perked him up in a hurry. He couldn’t believe I’d spent good money on something that was painfully simple to make. Linc had overheard his commentary from the back seat and invited him to make mac and cheese. Smart kid, that one.

Sure enough, Chet came by with a grocery bag the next day and made himself at home in my kitchen. Mac and cheese was a side dish. I baked chicken, sauteed broccoli, and feigned irritation when he told me I didn’t add enough olive oil. I made room for him at the stove and did my best not to be too obvious when I sniffed his hair and stared at his ass. Dinner was fantastic, but the company was better.

Yep, I’d seen him almost every night this week.

In the name of science.

All visits were G-rated and kid supervised. Chet didn’t say so, but I suspected that he threw himself into the science stuff with Linc to prove he’d moved on from the gold-ball-BJ incident. I wished I could say the same.

I was hung up on my geeky neighbor. I wanted to see him. I wanted to be near him. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was about Chet that drove me wild. He was nervous one second and intimidatingly confident the next. Shy and nerdy, then bold and no-nonsense. But still nerdy…in the best possible way.

He wasn’t my usual type. I liked masculine men who looked like they could bench press my weight, guzzle beer, and not think twice about bending over and begging for dick. But my type must have evolved over time, because that wasn’t Jase either.

I refocused on my ex and did a quick double take when I realized I was under major scrutiny.

“Why are you staring at me?” I grumbled.

Jase shot a lopsided smile my way. “No reason in particular. I’m just curious about the scientist. You like him, don’t you?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“That’s too bad ’cause getting laid would be good for you, Sam.” He chuckled at my incredulous expression. “Oh, c’mon, it would be good for me too. And maybe my prince will come along someday. Trust me, I’ll be happy for both of us when it happens. But back to the tree…if you promised Linc, you have to deliver. It’s Dad Rule Number One.”

“I always follow through,” I argued.

“Not when it comes to the holidays. You hate Christmas.”

“True, but—”

“Hear me out, Sam,” he continued, holding his hand up, no doubt to stop me from sharing the same ol’ tired gripes he’d heard before. “Be a Scrooge if you want, but you have to remember that Linc is getting older. He sees the examples we set, and he’s formulating his own opinions. I’m a strong elf with a backstage pass to all of Santa’s shenanigans. You know I started playing Mariah Carey’s fabulous holiday classic the second pumpkin spice lattes were legalized for the season. And I’m sure you also know that this house will undergo a serious transformation when we get home from Thanksgiving with the fam. It’s who I am. I love the holidays. And under your semi-cranky tough-guy façade, I think there’s a glimmer of Christmas spirit in your heart. If I’m right…share it with Linc. He expects it from me, but he’d cherish it from you.”