What Happens at Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

on Thursday evening. “If you want me to impress Andy, I’m going to need something to wear that hasn’t spent the last nine months rolled up in a rucksack. All my old stuff’s still packed up in my dad’s loft.”
    Justin nodded. “Good point. I hadn’t thought of that. Shame you can’t borrow anything of mine.”
    They were very different sizes. Sean was a good four inches taller, and he was broader in the shoulder than Justin, who was a slim—if you were being polite, or skinny if you weren’t—five foot nine.
    “Yeah, well. If you weren’t such a midget…. Ouch!” A sharp dig in the ribs shut Sean up. He retaliated by wrestling Justin to the living room floor and tickling him until he was squirming and weak with laughter.
    “Gibbon. Gibbon !” Justin yelled, sagging with relief when Sean stopped immediately and pushed up on his arms, freeing Justin from the weight of his body.
    “I can’t believe you remembered that.” Sean chuckled, breathless from exertion.
    “You never forget your safeword.” Justin rolled out from under Sean, straightening his clothes.
    As kids they’d spent a lot of time play-fighting, but back then Sean hadn’t known his own strength and didn’t always realise when Justin had had enough. One day, when they were about nine or ten years old, Justin’s mum had suggested they pick a word to use when the other person—usually Justin—really did want the game to stop. For some reason neither of them could remember, they’d settled on “gibbon.” They’d used it into their early teens, but it had gradually fallen into disuse when wrestling was replaced by video games or footy in the park.
    Justin was standing now, and he offered a hand to Sean, who was still on the floor.
    “Cheers,” Sean said as Justin hauled him up. “So, about this shopping trip….”
    “You can go tomorrow while I’m at work.”
    “I could…”
    Justin raised his eyebrows waiting for the “but” he knew was coming.
    “…but you know how shit I am with fashion. I’m still not allowed to dress myself.”
    Justin laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’d almost forgotten.”
    “I need to get some more clothes for everything, not just the party. I only have one pair of jeans without holes in, and most of my clothes are more suited to the tropics than London in the middle of winter. Plus I need something to wear for interviews, assuming I get some soon.”
    “And you want me to help you?”
    “Please?” Sean gave him a hopeful grin. “You’ve always been great at picking stuff out for me.”
    As teenagers, whenever they’d had spare cash to spend on clothes, they’d always gone shopping together. Justin dressed Sean up like a mannequin and vetoed almost all of Sean’s attempts at choosing for himself. Sean had been grateful for the help, even if he grumbled. Justin had an eye for fashion, whereas Sean didn’t care what he wore. If his outfit wasn’t slightly too big jeans, a T-shirt, and trainers, then it was never at the top of Sean’s list. He always dressed for comfort, but Justin helped him do that with a bit of extra style.
    Justin gave a put-upon sigh, but he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. The chance to use Sean as a clothes horse and to spend a few hours with him half-naked in a variety of changing rooms? Yeah. No way was Justin going to turn that down. At least it would give him the excuse to legitimately study Sean’s arse, albeit through his clothes.
    “Yeah. I suppose we could go tomorrow night. It’ll be hell though, late-night shopping in the run-up to Christmas. You’ll owe me big time.”
    “I’ll pay you in pumpkin spice latte.”
    “You know me so well.” Justin let the grin he’d been trying to suppress escape. “Okay, done. Meet me at Starbucks on Kensington High Street after work, and you can pay me in advance. I’ll need all the caffeine and sugar to get me through shopping at the end of my work