Page 74 of Playing His Game

Adam groaned. “Please don’t.”

His parents laughed. Mo closed his mouth again, cheeks pink. Adam couldn’t quite read his expression—he wasn’t upset, and he was definitelyamused, but there was something else to it too. Not just embarrassment.

He hadn’t yet put his finger on it when the door opened and admitted Chelsea and her family.

“We brought popcorn garlands!” Chuckie announced at top volume.

Dad winced and turned down his hearing aid.

“You did!” Mom enthused. “That’s fantastic, I was just thinking this tree needed popcorn garland!”

“See, Chuckie, I told you it’d needoh my God.” Chelsea stopped before she even got her first boot off. “That thing is huge!”

“Right?” Mo said brightly, and the world went into slow motion as Adam watched, helplessly, as his fake boyfriend cheerfully uttered the words, “Who knew your brother was such a size queen?”

Dad wheezed on the couch like he was having an asthma attack.

“Right,” Adam said, before this situation could get any worse. “I actually need to borrow Mo for some errands. You have the tree covered, right? Great, okay, let’s go.” And he dragged Mo to the mudroom so they could get back into their boots.

His ears and cheeks were still burning when he closed the door on Chuckie’s volume-indiscriminate voice asking, “What’s a size queen?”

Mo still looked manic.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Adam suggested. “We’re going to need more alcohol.”

“You don’t want to help finish decorating the tree? It kind of sounded like this was some kind of family tradition? Ooh, is the alcohol for after it’s done? Like, are we getting day-drunk on eggnog?”

Adam pushed Mo’s coat into his arms. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Because I could get on board with that,” Mo chattered as they got into the SUV. “Like, first, you get all nostalgic thinking about all the good times you had as a kid with parents who loved you and put your ugly-ass ornaments on the tree every year, and then you spike your hot chocolate and get shitfaced while, I don’t know, caroling or watchingIt’s a Wonderful Life?—”

He was on a roll now. Something about changing into matching pajamas with those button-flap things on the ass, and speculating about whether Adam’s would fit or if his mom would have to add extra material.

Adam let him go. Eventually, he’d get all the nervous energy out of his system and then?—

Mo went suddenly silent. Adam flicked on his turn signal as they approached the intersection that would bring them to the liquor store. When he glanced over, Mo had sunk down in his seat so far, his nose barely reached the bottom of the window, and was staring at the sun visor.

“Adam?”

His voice was so quiet, Adam wouldn’t have recognized it if he hadn’t been the only other person in the car. “Hmm?”

He could hear Mo swallow even over the hum of the engine. “Was I just… a lot?”

Adam pulled into a parking spot, cut the engine, and turned toward him.

Mo had his shoulders hunched up to his ears. His mouth turned down, and he was pressing his lips together so hard he had little dimples in his chin.

The answer was yes, obviously. But Adam wanted to be gentle. Mo might be a spoiled brat, but Adam was the one who’d left him alone with his mom, knowing she’d do her best to include him.

He should’ve warned her about Mo’s shitty family. He should’ve thought of it himself. Instead, he’d left Mom to unwittingly rub Mo’s nose in the Murphys’ happy family, not suspecting the level of toxic garbage he’d experienced in his own home growing up.

“Maybe a little.”

Mo groaned and buried his face in his hands. When he resurfaced, the agonized expression had gentled, but he still had regret written all over him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Fuck, your parents probably hate me now.”

“My parents think you’re hilarious,” Adam corrected without thinking about it. “My dad’s convinced I’m going to propose.”

Mo blinked.