Merry Cherry Christmas - Keira Andrews Page 0,2

for Jeremy to really see him, and he was still blurry.

“I’m good. Just thinking about my prescription. I’m not sure where it is. My mom’s probably got it.”

“Just tell her to take a pic with her phone.”

“Good idea.” Jeremy nodded, pushing away the thoughts of home and walking carefully on the crunchy grass that now looked faintly white. The wind gusted, the freezing rain morphing into snow.

“Why don’t you have boots? I’m assuming you’re a first-year. You’re not from here?”

“Victoria.”

“Oh, cool. I love BC. Vancouver Island is gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I guess so? We don’t get snow very often. Usually just rains. I had winter gear, but I outgrew it.”

“You definitely need boots in Toronto.” Max grasped Jeremy’s bare hand, the leather of his gloves cool and soft. “And you need gloves. Dude, you must be freezing!”

Jeremy’s heart went BOOM, and he hoped it was too dark to see his red face. Max had only held his hand for a second—and he hadn’t really held his hand—but it was a thrill. A sad, pathetic little thrill.

“Yeah, forgot to bring my gloves from home, and I’ve been meaning to go shopping. It was still mild and now all of a sudden winter’s here, I guess.”

“Take mine while we walk back.” Max pressed the leather into Jeremy’s hand.

“No, that’s not fair.”

“I’m used to the cold. Besides, I think you might be in shock a little, so put them on.” His tone was commanding but kind.

“Okay, but I’m fine.” Jeremy had to admit that it was a relief to slide his numb hands into the warm, fuzzy lining of the gloves. They were too big for him, so he clenched his fingers to stop them from falling off. “Thank you.” It was an even bigger relief to have someone taking charge. Taking care of him.

“No prob. Okay, we’re going to have to cross the street in a minute.”

The bursts of streetlights filled the dark sky as they came to the end of the grassy area. Cars zoomed by, headlights and red taillights huge, going fast despite the conditions. Jeremy stared down at the slick, blurry sidewalk, stepping gingerly. His sneakers didn’t grip the layer of ice at all, and he flailed and clutched at Max.

Max laughed good-naturedly. “I’ve got you.” He wrapped a big arm around Jeremy’s shoulders.

Jeremy’s breath stuttered, and not just because his ribs ached where he’d smacked the pavement. He was tucked against Max’s side, and Max was a good foot taller than him. And buff. And it was warm like a hug. Jeremy hadn’t been hugged in months, not since…

“Put your arm around my waist,” Max said.

“Okay.” Jeremy did, loving how that felt, to hold onto another guy like that. Like they were boyfriends or something. Another pathetic thrill ran down his bruised spine.

“We’ve got about ten feet, and then there’s a curb. I’ll tell you when.”

Max walked slowly, his steps careful. Jeremy couldn’t really see his feet but assumed Max was wearing something sturdier than sneakers since he seemed able to grip better than Jeremy could. They shuffled to the curb, where they stopped for the light.

“Thanks for this,” Jeremy said, blinking at the massive balls of light all around. He realized how much he took seeing the world in focus for granted. “It’s kind of scary when you can’t see.”

“Dude, I’d be shitting myself.” Max squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder where he held him securely. “Okay, we’re stepping down onto the road. It’s not salted yet either.”

They shuffled across, and Max guided him back up onto the curb on the other side. They continued along the sidewalk with arms around each other.

Do people think we’re boyfriends?

Despite everything, it was exciting. Which was cringey and probably why Jeremy had never actually had a boyfriend in real life. Because he was the biggest loser on campus.

“Do you know what your major’s going to be?” Max asked.

“Biochemistry.”

“Wow. You must be smart.”

“I guess?” He was, but he obviously wasn’t going to say that. “I’m really interested in gene expression and development.”

Max whistled. “That sounds very science-y.”

“That’s what they said in the brochure.” Jeremy was stupidly proud when Max chuckled at his weak joke. He asked, “What’s your major?”

“Sociology. I’ve always planned on law school. Assuming I didn’t blow the LSAT last month.”

Max’s voice had tightened, and Jeremy gave his waist an awkward pat. “I’m sure you did great.”

“Thanks. Still another few days for the results. Waiting’s the worst.”

“Totally. I—” Jeremy’s foot slipped, and he clung to Max, wheeling his left arm wildly. Max skidded, and