Page 19 of His Christmas Love Song

Ryan smiles and sets aside his phone. If he’s going to run his song by Hank tomorrow, he ought to work on it while he has the cabin to himself. He starts strumming the tune, humming along. Usually he writes the melody to a song first before finding words to fit. He thinks about Jesse, about what he means to him. He thinks about how to tell his best friend that he loves him. But not just as a friend. As more than a friend.

“I wanna be more than friends,” he sings softly. “My heart’s on the line. I could be yours, and you could be mine.”

They’re not the most original words in the world, but he scribbles them down anyway, in the notebook where he keeps his song ideas and music notations before they get transferred into the computer app he uses to polish songs. He keeps working, lost in the verses and his feelings when the door to the cabin opens and Jesse walks in with a paper bag under each arm.

Ryan snaps the notebook shut and hurries to set down his guitar. “Back so soon?”

“I’ve been gone for two hours,” Jesse says with a quizzical look on his face.

“Really?” Ryan can see that it’s full on dark outside now. He stands up; his legs and back feel stiff. “Guess I lost track of time.”

“Working hard? Can I hear it?” Jesse asks as he walks to the kitchenette.

Ryan can smell spices and suddenly realizes he’s ravenous. “Uh. Hear what?”

“Whatever you were working on when I came in,” Jesse says.

“Not yet.”

Jesse doesn’t seem bothered by Ryan’s answer. He unloads the first bag. “I got tacos. Lots of tacos. Plus chips and salsa and beans and rice and gauc. I know we were skeptical, but this place seems legit.”

“Smells amazing.”

“And,” Jesse pulls two six packs out of the other bag with a flourish, “there’s more where this came from, too. I have to get the other bag out of the car.”

“Sweet,” Ryan says. “But I’m probably only good for one or two.”

“What?” Jesse pouts, apparently out of whatever funk he’d been in before. “I thought we could put a movie on one of laptops and turn our brains off for a while.”

“I’m in, I just don’t want to overdo it. I’m going to meet up with Hank for brunch tomorrow and I don’t want to be hungover.”

Jesse turns around abruptly and puts the beer in the fridge. “Brunch? Like, a date?”

“No,” Ryan says quickly. “Just a friends thing. I mean, you could come, too, probably.”

Jesse stands up, throws Ryan an inscrutable look. “Nah. That sounds fun for you two. Maybe I’ll go for a hike or something.”

“Okay. But the movie’s a good idea. I’ll set that up if you want to do the food?”

“Deal.”

Twenty minutes later they’re settled on the couch, Ryan’s laptop playing The Hangover and diving into the above-average Mexican food. Ryan’s nursing a beer but Jesse cracks open his second before the guys in the movie even make it to Las Vegas. By the time the credits roll, Jesse’s made his way through a six-pack all by himself and he’s laughing so hard at the photo montage at the end that he’s doubled over, his long body literally folded in half. Ryan’s heart is light seeing Jesse cracking up at a movie they’ve both seen at least a dozen times.

When Jesse comes up for air, he’s got tears in the corners of his eyes.

“You all right there, Jess?” Ryan asks, patting his shoulder.

“Shit, I love this movie.”

“I know you do, buddy.” Ryan closes the laptop and is about to ask Jesse if he wants some water, when suddenly Jesse’s right there, in his space. Closer than they’ve been all day.

“Ryan.”

Ryan waits, but Jesse doesn’t say anything except his name. This close, he can see Jesse’s irises turn from slate gray to almost silver. “Yeah?” His voice sounds low to him, but Jesse doesn’t flinch.

“Ryan. Can I—I just need to know if—”

And then before Ryan can say anything or do anything or even lick his lips or take an extra breath, Jesse kisses him.