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Buck knew that checking his phone while on shift was a risky move—the loft was an open space and his coworkers were a bunch of busy bodies, which meant that if he didn’t want whatever he was looking at on his screen to become dinner conversation, it was smart to keep his phone in his pocket.
But, in Buck’s defense, when he opened up his Instagram account he hadn’t excepted to find a DM from a name he’d long given up on trying to forget.
“Ooh, are you DM-ing a girl?” Hen said loudly as she leaned on the back of the couch to try and look over Buck’s shoulder at his phone screen.
Quickly, he hit the power button and flipped his phone face down, but it was too late. Hen had summoned Chim.
“You bringing Buck 1.0 out of retirement?” Chim eagerly dropped the book he had been reading and propped his head on his chin.
Buck felt his face turn fire-hydrant red, and he tried to think cold thoughts to try and quell his blush. But cold thoughts only made him think about the very person who was making him flush in the first place.
Chim and Hen may have been familiar with Buck 1.0, but what they didn’t know was that there was an even earlier edition of Evan Buckley—one that believe in soul mates and romance. One that held the naive, romantic ideal of only ever sleeping with one person.
A version of him that died a slow, cold death that fateful Christmas he spent in the sleepy mountain village tucked away the Highrange of Pontoos.
A version that Abby had brought back to life, only for it to flatline again when he realized that she too had left him.
He had felt that past version of himself stirring in his chest when he opened that DM. He felt it pounding beneath his ribs, even now as he tried to not think about the first time he had met The Grinch.
Buck had been young when he first landed in the small town of Whoville looking for a place to belong.
There were so many things he hadn’t known back then, but he knew, that for as long as he could remember, that he never truly seemed to fit in. Not with the miscellaneous coworkers he collected as he tried his hand at different odd jobs, not with the other guys on his college football team, and certainly not with his family—Maddie excluded, but that was a can of worms that Evan tried not to think about.
It had been late November and his last seasonal job had come to a close, so Evan had loaded himself back into the Jeep and moved on. Based on nothing more than overhearing a man at a truck-stop talk about ‘that funky little town with the Christmas freaks,’ he’d decided that Whoville was as good a place as any to hole up for the winter.
Evan liked Christmas, and he himself was a little bit of a freak.
He’d arrived in the small town after nightfall, and as he drove through the quiet downtown he marveled at the most unique architectural design he’d ever seen—he also noticed that all restaurants has already closed.
Desperate for a place to eat, he found himself ducking into a bar called The Frosty Mug, hoping that the kitchen hadn’t closed yet.
As he stood in the doorway, shaking snowflakes off his shoulder he looked up and saw the most intriguing creature he’d ever laid eyes on.
Tall, Evan could tell he was easily over 6 feet even though he was seated by the bar. With a little bit of a dad bod, a round belly that practically rested in his lap, and long, thin legs that he couldn’t help but trace with his eyes. Covered from head to toe in lush, green green fur.
But what caught Evan’s attention was the melancholic look in his hypnotic yellow eyes.
The poor kid never stood a chance.
“Earth to Buck.” Chim waved a hand in front of Buck’s eyes bringing him back to reality.
“Sorry,” Buck startled, “What were we talking about?”
“About the chick you were DM-ing.” Chim smirked while smacking his gum.
“At least we were, until you slipped into a daydream,” Hen raised an eyebrow at him.
“So,” Eddie spoke up, and Buck realized that he hadn’t even noticed him enter the room, “who’s the lucky lady?”
There was something in his tone that Buck couldn’t decipher. Usually, he’d worry about that. He was so used to being able to read Eddie, that any bit on ambiguity on his ability to tell what his best friend was thinking of feeling made him worry that Eddie was hiding things from him—again.
But, he was still preoccupied with the fact that his first lover who had broken his heart had suddenly messaged him out of the green.
Evan, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the way things ended. You were more wonderful than I ever could’ve hoped for, more than I thought I deserved, and so I ran away. I acted from a place of hurt—hurt that was not caused by you, and yet you are the one who paid the price.
I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, but I’ve started healing and I wanted to apologize. I’m in therapy and everything, isn’t that wild?
I’ll be attending the International Brotherhood of Real Bearded Santa’s Celebration in LA (I finally fulfilled my dream of becoming a Santa), and, selfishly, I was hoping you’d let me treat you to a peppermint mocha.
So much had changed for Buck since then—he far preferred an iced gingerbread oat-milk chai these days—but he couldn’t deny that he still got the same funny feeling in his chest when he though about his fuzzy former paramour. Like his heart was a size too big.
“No lucky lady,” Buck cleared his throat, “Just someone that I used to know is coming to town and wanted to know if I wanted to grab coffee.”
Eddie’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he smiled, “That sounds nice. Are you going to meet up with them?”
Buck smiled back at Eddie, because it was a reflex to smile back at Eddie, “You know what? Yeah, I think I will.”