The Holiday List (The Script Club 4)

No kidding.

It was a sign.

Yeah, yeah, a literal one and the kind that said, “Stop everything and look at your life. Now.”

Everything in me went still. No panic, no worry, no questions. Just a very clear sense that I was going the wrong way.

What I had to say couldn’t wait till after Christmas. This was far too important.

I made a U-turn at Aviation Boulevard and headed home.

An hour later, I pulled into my garage, grabbed a gift from under the tree, and sprinted down the street. I knocked hard enough to bruise my knuckles and hoped like hell he was home. I smiled at the wreath like a fool, then amped up my grin a few watts when the door swung open.

And there he was.

God, he looked exquisite. I wasn’t sure how that was possible for a guy rocking a red Rudolph sweatshirt. It should have clashed with his natural reddish highlights, but it was fun and sweet and…perfectly Chet.

“Sam?”

“Hi. It’s me.” I licked my lips nervously and nodded.

“I thought you had an early flight.” He adjusted his thick glasses and cocked his head.

“Yeah, but I never quite made it to the airport. I had to see you and…give you your present.” I unceremoniously shoved the small, red glossy package at him. So much for being cool, calm, and collected.

He fingered the ribbon and frowned. “I thought you wanted to have dinner after the holidays with Lincoln and—”

“I do, but this…this is from me. To you. And I can’t wait anymore. I’ve waited too long already and I just—open it.” I tapped the gift and crossed my arms to avoid ripping the paper myself.

Chet gave me a lopsided smile. “Come inside.”

I followed him through the dim foyer into the sunny living room. It felt like walking onto the set of a holiday film with the Christmas tree in front of the window, the garland-adorned mantel over the fireplace, and the soft strains of Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” coming through a Bluetooth speaker.

He sat on the corner of the red sofa and patted the space beside him before tugging the ribbon free and carefully unwrapping the package. His eyes flitted to mine as he lifted the lid and pulled out an antique stopwatch.

“Oh, this is lovely,” he said.

No doubt what he was really thinking was closer to… “Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted a useless watch that belonged to a stranger who’s been dead for half a century. Nice. Santa never came through, but you are a freaking rock star.”

I plucked the watch from his fingers and held it face open on my palm. “This clock stopped working many Decembers ago. If I understood correctly, you want time to stop. I’ve done it.”

“Huh?”

“I stopped time,” I repeated manically. “This is working. Can you tell? It’s just me and you. No one else in the universe. Besides Elvis. He’s still singing, and I’m gonna let that slide for now because I’m too nervous to do anything about it.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Because you can only stop time for serious reasons. Like when you have something so important to say, it has to be heard and counted. It’s a cosmic rule. Einstein said it or something.”

Chet furrowed his brow. “I don’t think—”

“Trust me on this.”

A smile played on one side of his mouth. “What did you have to say?”

I set the watch on the coffee table and held his face in my hands. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I want you, I need you, and that isn’t going to change in January, February, March, ever. I love you in every time zone, including time on every planet in the damn solar system. I love you, Chet. And if you feel the same, I—”

Chet launched himself at me, sealing his mouth over mine.

He broke the kiss and beamed. “I love you, Sam.”

I closed my eyes briefly and held him close. “Are we ready to reset time again?”

“I have a few questions first.”

“Of course you do.” I kissed his nose. “Lay ’em on me.”

“When time resumes, I assume we’re boyfriends? Does Lincoln know? Will he be okay with this? I want him to be happy. I know he comes first, but—”

I set my finger over his lips. “Yes to boyfriends. Linc doesn’t know about that part yet, but I’m very confident he’ll be okay with this. And I want you both to come first. It’s taken me forty years to figure out there’s room for more joy in my life. You bring me joy. And Lincoln too. Let us do the same for you.”

Chet smiled shyly. “I feel like I’m dreaming. I’m going to wake up in an empty house on Christmas day, and you’ll be off doing football things.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I was almost at the airport when I realized I was about to make a big fucking mistake. I called in a favor from a ref who lives a hell of a lot closer than me.” I slipped my arm around his neck and rested my forehead on his. “I’m staying home for Christmas. With you. If you’ll have me.”