Page 40 of Christmas Bubble

But even as those thoughts fill my head, I stroke myself furiously until I feel the build-up of my orgasm. I’m panting like a racehorse, my steamy breath floating away in the cold air.

I put my free hand to my mouth to muffle my sound. I can’t help shouting his name when my orgasm hits me and I come all over the white snow in front of me, “Curtis!”

I put my hands on my knees to keep myself upright when my body wants to let go and relax. In my post-orgasmic trance, it’s easy to forget the snow is cold, even if the air around me is finally seeping through my clothes.

When my breathing returns to a somewhat normal rate, I tuck myself in and zip my pants.

“Riley!”

Hearing the call, I move away from the tree and the evidence of what I’ve just done and walk toward the cabin. But Bubble isn’t yelling from the cabin. He’s running toward me.

“Riley.”

He’s holding my coat in his hands and looking at the ground. “I’m so sorry. I…shouldn’t have done that without asking you first. I just thought the cabin needed to be cheered up, and I got carried away. I can take it all down. Please don’t ask me to leave.”

The last few words are an almost-silent plea.

I take the coat from him and put it on. It smells like firewood and a hint of strawberry. The last thing I want is for Bubble to think any of this is his fault, so I lean over a little to encourage him to meet my gaze.

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did you run?”

“Would you believe it if I said I forgot my hat outside?”

He rolls his eyes, and I chuckle.

“You’re not wearing a hat.”

I put my hand on my head. “Oh yeah. I couldn’t find it.”

He gives me a push, and I take a couple of steps back, laughing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you with my reaction. Honestly? The cabin looked a little sad. I’m happy you added some life to it.”

He narrows his eyes. “Sooo, you ran away because you’re happy I decorated the cabin…?”

“Let’s go back inside. It smelled divine, and my belly is rumbling,” I say, resuming my walk toward the cabin.

“No. Don’t treat me like I’m dumb. I thought you were better than the rest. I’m leaving.” He goes around me at a pace I almost struggle to keep up with.

“Bubble, wait. What do you mean? You’re not dumb. You’re anything but that.”

“Then why are you avoiding my questions? Why are you behaving so weirdly? Do I gross you out or something? Did seeing me in your kitchen look too domestic and you’re afraid to catch the gay from me? You know that’s not how it works, right?”

He doesn’t turn around, but he doesn’t need to. I know exactly how fiery his eyes are. How flushed his cheeks are.

I grab his arm and pull him back. He crashes against me, which is when I forget about everything right or wrong. How old I am. How oldheis. If I’m in the middle of a midlife crisis, or if I’ve just been asleep my whole life.

Everything dissipates in the cold air around us as I crash my lips against his.

16

BUBBLE

When the manof your absolute dreams slams their mouth into yours, there is only one course of action. Yours truly has broken it down into four easy steps for your convenience.

You’re welcome.