Merry Cherry Christmas

There. Max had no clue if he was going to stick to his law-school plan or go for being a teacher or maybe something else altogether. But at least he had the next couple of weeks figured out.

Chapter Seven

Totally cool with me!

Dragging his carry-on suitcase along the empty sidewalk in the lingering early morning darkness, Jeremy cringed for the zillionth time at his emoticon of lies. Not to mention the exclamation mark. He’d wanted to seem chill, and of course had failed in the dorkiest fashion possible.

Well, the smiley face wasn’t a lie. Sure, the thought of no more sex with Max in itself wasn’t happy-making, but Jeremy was thrilled to be going home with him for Christmas. So it was totally cool with him.

As he crossed St. George and headed south to the bus station, he huffed. He’d talked himself through this loop of embarrassment and justification repeatedly, obsessing over the text exchange to the point where he was amazed he hadn’t answered “” for every question on his last exam.

“Everything’s cool. Be cool,” he reminded himself.

And it was! Exclamation mark! He was spending more time with Max than he could have dreamed. This wasn’t Max blowing him off. It wasn’t a rejection, even though Jeremy’s anxious brain had circled around that drain too many times.

When the first text had lit up his silenced phone, he’d sat there at his desk reading it over and over, not sure how to feel. Thrilled on one hand, but with a nagging pulse of hurt.

Hooking up with Max had been surreal and incredible, and a voice that sounded way too much like his mother’s had hissed that he should have known not to get ahead of himself. That Max didn’t really want him. That he was bored of Jeremy’s virgin nerves and awkwardness. Max was way out of his league.

“If he wanted to blow me off, the last thing he’d do is invite me home with him,” Jeremy reminded himself once again. And it was true! It made perfect sense that they cool off the sex lessons. It wouldn’t exactly be appropriate in his family’s house. It wasn’t a rejection even if it had felt like one at first.

Because seriously, Max wouldn’t invite him home for weeks if he didn’t like him. At least as a friend. Maybe more. And Max was right—they shouldn’t rush into anything. It was smart to take a step back and get to know each other.

On impulse, Jeremy said good morning to a woman in UGGs who was waiting for her leashed black Labrador to finish pooping. She was clearly wearing PJs under her coat. After a moment where she seemed surprised he was talking to her, she smiled and said good morning back.

That hadn’t been so hard. The people in Toronto seemed so remote compared to where he was from, but they were just like anyone else. This city wasn’t so scary.

Especially now that he had a true friend. A friend who just might be more.

“And we just met, so it’s not like we’re a couple at this point.”

Those three words—at this point—echoed through not only his head, but his soul. Which was incredibly cheesy, but the fact that this friendship with Max might lead to a real relationship was beyond exciting.

In January, when they unpaused the more-than-friends part, he and Max might become a couple. Not that Max had said that per se. But Jeremy had analysed it up, down, and around, and the implication in those three words was clear. They might be a couple at some point. Not at this point, but at some point it was infinitely possible.

It was all Jeremy could do not to skip down the wide sidewalks of University Avenue past the sleepy row of hospitals all decorated for the season. As much as he was dying to throw himself at Max and beg to be fucked, it would be worth waiting for.

Especially if they ended up a real couple. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up and just be glad Max was his friend. But the thought of Max as his actual boyfriend had him humming “Joy to the World” as he turned down Edward Street.

Soon, Jeremy peered down the long lines snaking along the bus station’s outdoor platforms. The roof made the early morning even gloomier, and he passed the first few bays without spotting Max. His stomach knotted, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t late. The bus wasn’t leaving until eight a.m., and it wasn’t even seven-thirty.

There were a couple of buses in the bays, one loading a slow-moving line of passengers. He checked the bus’s LCD display just in case, but it said Windsor. He exhaled and carried on. The next bay was empty, but the line was already long. He hurried on and—there!