John Parnassus is not a fan of the holidays. In fact, he'd punch Rudolph in the nose if he could. He doesn't believe in love, men, or the 'holiday spirit' -- he's still bitter after his ex left him two years ago on Christmas morning. To him, the holidays are all a sham. Take a chance on love? Never again.

John's friend Sally gives him a gentle kick in the ass to get out of his rut and try something new, starting at the office New Year’s party. He expects the same thing as last year: drunken mistletoe antics and a sore head the next morning.

Then he meets Tim Hinton, a coworker from the IT department. Surprised to find they have common ground, John is drawn to someone for the first time in years. Should he make a move, or endure another ho hum New Year?

EXCERPT:Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

I'm about to turn back to my skyline when I become aware of a struggle nearby. Looking to my left, I see Tim Hinton from IT trying to fend off one of our clients who is drunk and seems focused on groping Tim's ass. They are in one of the dark corners of the balcony, so that must be why I didn’t notice them before. Or I was too caught up in my thoughts.

Tim keeps moving those groping hands away, but the man puts them right back. Why had I never noticed just how firm and round Tim’s jeans-clad ass really is? Ah, that’s right -- curmudgeon. The alcohol is definitely working its magic tonight.

Startled, the man groping Tim’s delectable buttocks jumps back and almost falls over the balcony in his haste to get away. I reach out and grab his belt, pulling him back just in time. Face splotchy and breathing hard, he pushes between me and Tim, his drunken gait leading him back to the conference room to join the revelry.

“John ...” Tim sighs. “Thanks for rescuing me. Some dumbass put fuckin’ mistletoe on the balcony and Claude kissed me before I even knew what was happening. Then his hands started to wander. I’ve been trying to avoid him all night and came out here for some fresh air, not knowing he followed me until it was too late.”

Straightening his long-sleeved, burgundy shirt, Tim checks his cuffs and runs his hands through his hair, trying to restore some sort of order to his appearance.

“It’s the least I could do. No one should be forced to do anything against their will,” I state. I take another sip of punch. “Seems you’re not a fan of mistletoe. I take it you’re not really a fan of Christmas, either?”

“No, I’m not. My asshole boyfriend left me last year on Christmas Eve, so all the holidays do now is annoy me.”

Wait ... Tim’s gay? How could I not know this?

“And I thought I was the only one,” I murmur.

“What ... you, too?” Tim queries. “I would never have thought anyone would do that to someone like you.” The light from the conference room highlights the flush that slowly spreads across Tim’s face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that out loud. It’s the alcohol. Forget I said anything.” Tim takes a step back and starts to turn toward the room when I reach out to touch his shoulder.