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“Please leave it outside,” I call out. “There’s a tip for you there.” Because I assume Theo doesn’t want his staff seeing him half naked in here.

“Of course.” There’s the sound of rattling cutlery, followed by soft footsteps padding away.

“How much did you tip him?” Theo asks.

“None of your business.”

“I just want to pay you back.”

“Well you can’t.” I smile with victory. “This is my treat. You come to my room, I pay. Now get onto the bed, we’re going to eat and watch the Muppets. And you’re going to enjoy it, even if it kills you.”

An hour later the pizza is destroyed and the wine bottle is half empty. Theo’s sitting on the bed, his legs on either side of mine as I lean back against his bare chest. He’s pushed my pajama shirt up, and is tracing patterns on my bare stomach as we watch Gonzo accidentally light Rizzo’s tail on fire, then throw him into a bucket of cold ice.

Theo chuckles behind me. I can feel the movement of his chest against my back. I turn around to look at him, grinning at how captivated he is.

“See?” I whisper. “I knew you’d like this movie.”

“The whole thing is insane.” He shakes his head and brushes his lips against my brow.

“But it’s good, though, right?”

“If you can ignore the fact that they’ve got everything wrong about London, then yeah.” But the smile lingers on his lips.

I pick up the glass of wine and lift it to his mouth and he takes a sip, before I do the same. “Has it cheered you up?”

“It would if you’d shut up and let me touch you.”

I giggle, because grumpy Theo is definitely my favorite. “I’ve fed you, I’ve washed you, you should be more grateful.”

“I’ll show you how grateful I am.” He kisses my neck and I lean my head back on his shoulder, feeling the shivers wrack through me, making my nipples peak. His hand splays out on my stomach as his fingers trace the line of my pajama pants.

Then he slides them under the brushed cotton.

“Hey, you can’t touch me while I’m watching the Muppets. You’ll ruin it for me forever,” I complain, putting my hand on top of his. But his fingers are already grazing me, and it feels so good I’m not sure I want to stop him.

“You watch this every year, huh?” He scrapes his teeth across my skin. My breath stutters.

“This, and The Holiday and Love Actually and The Polar Express,” I say. “And my mom loves a good Hallmark Movie so we do those too.”

“So if you’re watching this next year, all you’ll be able to think about is how I touched you while they sang this song,” he murmurs, trailing his finger down my stomach.

“And if you watch it next year, that’s all you’ll be able to think about too,” I murmur, liking that thought.

He’s too busy kissing my neck to answer.

“Was your boarding school like Scrooge’s?” I murmur a couple of minutes later. It’s still weird trying to imagine a seven-year-old Theo being sent away.

He snorts. “No. Thank God.”

“Did anybody stay behind at Christmas?”

He kisses my neck again. “You’re full of questions tonight.”

Yes I am. Because I’m trying to figure you out. “Lunch with your mom will do that.”

He wrinkles his nose. “How bad was she?”

I shake my head, trying to work out exactly what she was. “Not that bad. She was more protective about you than anything, I think.”