Must Love Christmas (Glasgow Lads on Ice #2) - Avery Cockburn

Chapter 1

71 Days Until Christmas

Garen McLaren was being abandoned.

He tried to look cheery as he carried his best friend’s final box of belongings out of their flat—which, in a few minutes, would simply be Garen’s flat.

Outside, Luca was waiting beside the open removal van with his boyfriend, Oliver, both of them rosy-cheeked from the effort of moving Luca’s possessions amid the brisk autumn Scottish wind.

When Luca saw Garen approaching with the box, he turned to examine the overloaded van. “Och, that’ll never fit,” Luca said, rubbing his dark, neatly trimmed beard with both hands.

“Sorry.” Oliver sighed and leaned his sturdy frame against the side of the van. “We should’ve moved stuff from our places separately instead of trying to cram it all into one big trip.”

Garen shifted the box in his aching arms. “Is there room for this in your car?” he asked Luca.

“There’s barely room for me in my car.” Luca took the box and set it on the ramp with a thud. “Shall we rearrange things to make this fit?”

The thought of reloading the van made Garen want to curl up on the pavement for a nap. “Wouldn’t it take less time to drive back tomorrow for the last box? You’re only moving one postal code away.”

“He’s right,” Oliver told Luca. “Unless you can’t survive one night without your…” He angled his head to read the words written on the box in Luca’s neat print. “…Curling mementos, 2010-2016,” he finished with his deadpan Canadian inflection.

Luca chuckled. “Maybe just one night.” He picked up the box with a grunt of effort. “Wait here,” he told Oliver. “I won’t be long.”

Garen followed Luca back up to the flat. As they entered the living room, the place suddenly seemed an empty cavern, though all the furniture remained.

Luca set the box on the dining table and let out a sharp breath, pausing before turning to Garen. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be.”

“Why? You’ll be living with the love of your life. You should be happy.”

“I am.” Luca’s dark, lively eyes had begun to glisten. “But I’ll miss you.”

“Pish. We’ll still see each other twice a week at the curling.”

“It won’t be the same.”

“How different can it be? You already spend most nights at Oliver’s. I’ll barely notice you’re gone.”

Luca must have heard Garen’s voice catching on that final word, because he stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Garen’s arms hung at his side before wrapping round Luca’s back and holding him tight. He squeezed his eyes shut as reality sank in: After five years of seeing his best mate nearly every day, he was about to live alone.

Finally Luca let go and stepped back, wiping his face just as Garen wiped his own. They laughed together at the mirrored motion.

Garen patted Luca’s box of curling mementos. “Must be some interesting items in here.”

Luca smirked. “Yes, you can have a look if you like.”

“Cool.” As usual, Luca had read his mind. “You sure you don’t need me to help you unload stuff at your new place?”

“You’ve already helped so much.” Luca brushed a streak of dust off the sleeve of his blue wool pullover. “I feel horrible leaving without knowing how you’ll pay November’s rent.”

“It’s my own fault for procrastinating.” Luca had given him three months’ notice to find a new flatmate, but Garen hadn’t placed an ad until two weeks ago.

“Any new inquiries?” Luca asked.

“Not since I checked the app ten minutes ago.”

“I really think you should consider changing the ad wording.”

Garen shook his head. “I want people to know what they’re getting with me. I can’t live with a homophobic neat freak.”

“Maybe upload some new photos, then? The place’ll look bigger now without my stuff.”

“Good idea.” The task would give him something to do tonight instead of lying on the couch feeling sorry for himself—or at least something in addition to lying on the couch feeling sorry for himself. “Away and start your happy-ever-after already.”

His eyes sparking with glee, Luca gave Garen one last quick hug…and then he was gone.

Garen locked the door, then returned to the living room. The afternoon sunlight was angling through the floor-to-ceiling bay window, so the place appeared warm and welcoming. To make the room look even more civilized, he cleared all of his random crap from the coffee table, leaving only the carved wooden bear statue his sister had brought him from Bulgaria.

He took new photos of the living room, then did the same with Luca’s bedroom and the