Page 80 of The Twelve Days of Christian
I turn back to him. “Ollie, I’ve been upfront with you about this since the moment you walked in the door this morning. And I was right. You think this is the same as what happened with Kendra. But it’s not.” He looks up at me, and I can see he’s planning to argue back. “This isn’t about you and me, Ollie. It’s about Haley. Neither of us gets to make the rules. She does.”
Haley’s face is pale with tension, hands clasped over her mouth as with wide eyes, she scans between the brother she loves, and the man who loves her. Me. And while I am fighting for myself right now, I’m mostly fighting for her.
“Ollie, just because Haley’s your sister, it doesn’t give you the right to make rules around her. Whoever she chooses to be with—orhas ever chosen—that’s not on you, that’s on her. When you act like you did today, it’s disrespectful to the person she is. She’s smart and capable—”
I can’t help but flash a smile at this amazing woman, offering her my belief, knowing she doesn’t always believe in herself.
“Haley knows what she wants. And if I’m what she wants…” My voice cracks, and I can hardly breathe for fear of what the next minutes will bring. “She may not. Not after what she’s just heard.” Her eyes are a deep unfathomable green, locked on mine. I don’t flinch away. “But if I am, that’s her decision to make, not yours to decide for her.”
And then she’s on her feet. Her arm loops through mine, and my heart pounds against my ribs, as without words, she signals her choice by taking her place at my side. We face him together.
Ollie’s eyes dart between us. Thoughts ripple through them, as they flicker green and brown like autumn leaves whipped by the wind. He leans forward, elbows on knees, chin propped on his hands, as if deliberating. After a few beats of silence, he moves to stand, then hesitates a moment, but Sam elbows him forward. He’s on his feet, reaching for Haley first, pulling her into a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’ve been a jerk. A jerk who loves you, but still a jerk.”
“It’s OK, Ollie,” she murmurs. “As long as you’re a jerk who can apologise, it’s OK.”
He releases her and steps towards me. I take his outstretched hand. His grip is firm, as his eyes fix on mine, his expression more serious than I think I’ve ever seen in my normally upbeat friend.
“I’m sorry mate. I should never have said thosethings…”
“It’s OK, man. I get it. I mean, I love that you want to look after her. But I do too. And I will.”
“I know.” Ollie pulls me into a bone-crushing hug and I realise that with a little time, a little forgiveness, everything’s going to be alright between us.
Much as that’s a relief, when he releases me, it’s not the state of our friendship I’m most concerned about. I’m immediately searching for confirmation from her. As if sensing my desperation to be clear about where we stand, Haley inserts herself into the space between Ollie and me. She sends two small hands around my neck, slender arms pulling me tight. The tension gripping my chest eases at the whisper of her words against my ear.
“I want you Christian Steele. All of you. The good bits and the not so good. I don’t need the perfect man. I just need you.”
The rest of the world falls away as we breathe in each other, but it’s only a precious moment before we’re pulled back into reality, interrupted by Sam’s brisk voice.
“Now, we’ve got all that nonsense behind us,” Sam says, grabbing the remote, “time to place your bets on who’s going to win Wild For The Win.”
The TV flares into life, and we all settle back into our seats, turning our eyes towards it. As the opening music sounds, Ollie snatches the remote from Sam, bumping up the volume before flopping onto the couch beside her.
“So, what do you think, Christian?” he asks. “You should know better than anyone. Who’s going to take the prize?”
“My money’s on Gavin Markham.” I’m sticking with my original prediction.
I’m glad it’s Gavin who has a shot at winning this thing, not me. I’m glad it’s not me there on that screen tonight, because if I was, the woman in Christmas pyjamas, curled against my chest, the green apple scent of her hair filling my nose, the downy skin of her cheek pressed against mine, wouldn’t be my girlfriend. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I’ve waited a long time, and it’s me who’s the biggest winner.
“How does it feel?” Haley asks. “Knowing it’s over?”
She’s wrong. It’s not over. This pre-recorded final isn’t the end. I have to endure tomorrow night’s live ‘reunion’ episode before I can put this whole nightmare in the past. One last hurdle; me there, live on camera with the critical eyes of the world upon me. It’s a sickening prospect, but I’m bound by that contract. There’s no escape.
“It’s not done yet,” I say gloomily. “There’s still tomorrow. And I’m dreading it. They’re going to rip me to shreds.”
“They’re not,” she says, tilting her head towards me. There’s an excited twinkle in her eyes, and her mouth curves up in a secretive smile. “Trust me. They’re not.”
Chapter 38
The Next Day
“No fucking way,” Tommymutters through gritted teeth as a gigantic brush hovers over his face.
Neither of us anticipated they’d swoop us off to hair and make-up. I’m observing from a swivel chair next to him. The make-up artist, Luka, declared my own attempts at painting my face passable, needing only the slightest touch of extra colour to suit the harsh stage lights. He’s focused on Tommy, now.
“Got good bone structure there, Tommy.” Luka smiles, blissfully unaware of—or pointedly ignoring—the bristling man in the chair. “A bit of product on that hair, yeah?”
