“We do more jokey things, like a secret Santa, without the secret. I usually get stocking fillers when I spend Christmas with Liam’s or Lexie’s family.”
“Okay, so you get something, then?”
“Yeah, but I know they only feel obligated because I’m the little orphan kid.”
“First, you’re not a kid. You’re nearly thirty.”
Milo scowled at him, making Edward laugh.
“I don’t know any of these people, but I am absolutely positive that nothing they do is out of obligation. Your friends love you, so it’s only right that their families would as well.”
“Look at you, knowing all the right things to say. It’s just that Christmas can be hard when you see people with their family, but...”
“You don’t need to say anything, Milo. I get it. Would you rather do presents tomorrow?”
“No, let’s do them now, and then we can go to bed.”
“Really?”
“Just to sleep.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“Fair. But I promise I can restrain myself. Your present’s in my bag.”
“Well, yours is in the bedroom as well, so we may as well go to bed now, and open them in there.”
Milo hesitated for a second before nodding. What was he nervous about? Edward pulled Milo up from the sofa and kept their hands connected, walking him into the bedroom. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped with Milo’s gift. Before he could overthink things again for the millionth time since deciding, he grabbed the gift, which was in an envelope. Edward turned and saw Milo holding a perfectly wrapped gift. It was the size of a shoebox and looked like something you’d see in the window display of a high-end store.
“I almost don’t want to open that. It looks too perfect. A man of many talents.”
“My talents lie elsewhere. I paid for this to be professionally wrapped.”
Edward laughed and took the gift, handing his envelope over to Milo.
“You go first,” said Edward.
“Let’s get into bed, then.”
They got cosy under the duvet before Milo opened the envelope. There were two pieces of paper, as the gift came in two parts. He read them both, his eyes widening as they moved down the page. He looked at the second page, and his eyes watered. Was that a good sign? Edward just wanted him to be happy.
“I don’t know what to say,” said Milo.
“Thank you, is usually the polite response.”
“Piss off,” he laughed. “You’ve not even read my stuff.”
“I don’t need to. If it’s written by you, it’ll be perfect. But I know you’ll need some reassurance, which is why there’s two parts to the gift.”
“Would you read it first?”
“I’d be honoured, but I think the editor will have a more objective opinion than me.”
“Thank you.”
“There you go.”
Milo laughed and leaned forward for a kiss. Edward loved Milo talking about his writing with such passion, and the fact he’d written a book was impressive. He needed to share it with the world.
