“Feel free to move his bed into the living room with you if you want company.” Pete gestures to the kitchen. “And help yourself to anything. I should be back around six.”
Thirty minutes later, Pete’s gone and I’m sat on his sofa, laptop on my knees and a slightly damp dog curled up at my feet. It might not be dark enough to turn the tree lights on yet, but it’s still beautiful to look at. Still reminds me that Christmas is just around the corner, even if I’m far from home.
This might not be my house, but I don’t feel like a stranger. Maybe it’s because I had a hand in turning this room into the warm, festive space it is now. I don’t know. But I’m not going to poke too deeply at it.
I sink into the cushions, relaxed in a way I haven’t been for a long while, and start to write.
“Hey.”
Gentle fingers card through my hair, rousing me from sleep. I lean into the touch before my mind catches up and I rememberwhere I am. My eyes fly open to find Pete leaning over me, smiling softly.
“Shit.” I scrub a hand over my face, trying to wake up. “Must’ve fallen asleep.”Way to state the obvious, Charlie.I’m curled up in the corner of the sofa and there’s a warm weight against my legs. I glance to the side and see Cooper flat out, paws twitching as he dreams. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise he’d climbed up here.”
Pete shushes me. “I don’t care about that.”
I go to sit up, but he stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Stay there a sec while you wake up properly. I brought fish and chips home, if you’re hungry?”
I grin, getting more awake by the second. “Starving.”
His smile widens. “You want to eat in here or at the table?”
“Err . . . it’s your house, you decide.”
He shrugs. “In here it is. Stay.” He points at Cooper, then me, dancing out of the way as I try and kick him. His laughter echoes in the hallway as he goes to get our food.
We eat fish and chips out of the paper, with the main lights down low and the tree lit up in all its magical glory. Pete’s thigh rests against mine, warm and reassuring, while Cooper snores at our feet.
I could get used to this.
It should be a warning, a big red flag telling me I need to back off because this isn’t my life. It can’t be. It’s only a holiday, and Pete is nothing but a holiday fling.
No matter how many times I repeat that in my head, the words feel wrong.
Not only because I’ve never had a holiday fling in my life—I’m not wired that way—but calling it that feels wrong because it implies that there’s nothing between Pete and me except fun, yet meaningless, sex.
And even I’m self-aware enough to realise there’s nothing meaningless in the way he’s asked me to stay, night after night, or in the way he kisses me goodbye when I force myself to turn him down.
Much later,when we stand at the back door as Cooper trots outside to do his business, Pete draws me close with a strong, solid arm around my shoulders. I know what’s coming, even before he whispers, “Stay,” into the crook of my neck, warm breath tickling my skin.
I glance up at the night sky, littered with stars and a moon bright enough to see by.
It makes me feel small, insignificant, my time on earth a mere blip in the grand scheme of things.
I don’t want to waste a single second of it.
Not anymore.
I’ve saidnoevery time he’s asked me that question, and I’ve watched him hide his disappointment with a smile. Tasted it in his kisses.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I’m giving in to the pull that’s getting harder to ignore and finally accepting that I don’t fucking want to. Consequences be damned.
“Yes.” I know he’s heard me because his arm tightens around me and his breath catches. His smile widens where his lips brush my skin, and my heart skips a beat.
“Come on, then.” He ushers Cooper back inside and takes my hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
We leave Cooper fast asleep in his own bed. As I silently follow Pete upstairs, I idly wonder if he’ll stay there all night orsneak up and join us. If it’s the latter, I hope it’s not anytime soon.
