Page 86 of The Twelve Days of Christian
“Dog,” he mumbles from deep in that languid post-coital state, not quite asleep, but barely awake. “I hear a dog.”
“Hmmm, outside,” I reply dozily. “Squirrel patrol. They can stay out there.” I have no desire to leave the warmth of this bed, with Christian’s limbs still draped comfortably over me, to let the girls in. They turned down my earlier offer, so they don’t get to demand instant attention now.
“You sure about that?” he mutters.
I hear it too. A small yip from the crate in the far corner of the room. I’m instantly upright. Kona.
“Wait there,” I say. “Keep your eyes shut.”
I find my pyjamas scattered on the floor and pull them on. When I reach the crate, Kona paws at the mesh door. I swing it open and scoop him up, a wiggling, licking bundle in my arms.
“What’s going on?” Christian calls.
“No peeking, you. Eyes shut.” I command, making my way to the bed. “It’s a surprise.”
I place Kona on Christian’s chest, and his eyes fly open. He takes in the laughing puppy mouth, inches away from him, that’s aiming a quick tongue at his nose, and his face creases in delight.
“What the fuck? A puppy? You got a puppy?” His hands immediately set to stroking Kona’s floppy ears, dodging playful teeth, while Kona bats at him with his paws.
“No,yougot a puppy. Meet Kona. He’s yours.” He doesn’t take in what I’ve said at first, too enthralled with the creature doing a tap dance on his chest. “That’s if you want him.”
Christian’s face splits into the biggest grin.
“Really?”
“Really. And I know your place isn’t ideal for a dog, and I know you’re away lots. He can stay with me whenever you need. The girls have already given their approval. They’re keen to have a baby brother.”
“God, he’s just so perfect. Thank you.” He pulls me in, pressing a kiss on my forehead, which is the cue for Kona to make an opportunistic lunge for my hair.
“No,” I say firmly, laying one finger on his wet nose while tucking the strand back out of his reach.
“Guess we’ll be saying that word a lot for a while,” Christian laughs. He stops mid-chuckle, lifting Kona up above his head and twirling him around, checking him out from all angles. “A tripod.” He smiles up at the helpless puppy, who squirms in his grasp and gives a frustrated bark. “Even more perfect.”
Chapter 40
Later That Night
If you asked someoneto imagine the most idyllic English Christmas scene, it would look like the library of Ollie’s house tonight. Except for the two large cameras, the web of cables crisscrossing the floor, and the crew clothed in black gathered around for final instructions from the floor manager; and the drum kit to one side and three guitars propped on stands in front of a leather couch and two chairs. But otherwise, the room oozes festive cheer.
Not one, but two trees twice the size of mine, decorated in a traditional style, frame the couch. They glisten with trails of gold tinsel and winking fairy lights. Dotted in between are giant baubles of deepest emerald, and rich ruby red bows the colour of the velvet dress I’m wearing.
It’s the same dress I wore to theWild For The Winfinale. So what, I’ll have been seen on national television twice in the same outfit within a fortnight. No matter that the Princess of Wales seems to get away with recycling her dresses just fine, I’m fully prepared for someone to criticise my choice, and I don’t care—I feel strong and beautiful in this dress and that’s all that matters. That and the fact Christian told me it’s his favourite of all my outfits. Although he did mention in the next breath, it made a refreshing change from Christmas pyjamas.
Every surface in the room is decked out with tastefully placed ornaments, luscious garlands and wavering candles wafting scents of sandalwood and cinnamon. There’s the smoky overlay of burning pine, from a fire crackling in the enormous hearth.
The room has a homely feel, despite its oversized proportions. I can see why they chose it over the ballroom. It’s the whole vibe they want for this variety show—performers in their own home, enjoying Christmas with friends and family. That’s why we’re here. Mum and Dad neatly sidestepped the invitation, pleading a school benefactor’s Christmas party they absolutely must attend. But, uncomfortable as it is facing live cameras, I won’t shy away from doing this for Ollie and Christian.
Sam and I take a seat on our allotted sofa. It’s wide and comfortable, and the forest green and red tartan upholstery fabric fits the Christmas decor perfectly.
“Hi, I’m Tabitha, Teddy’s girlfriend.” The bubbly blonde woman already seated at one end, who looks barely old enough to be out of school (although Ollie says she’s twenty-two), blinks at us nervously.
“Hi, I’m Haley, Ollie’s sister. And Christian’s girlfriend.”
I offer her a welcoming smile and try not to let the sympathy I feel for her show in my eyes. Girlfriend, in Teddy’s case, doesn’t have the same meaning as what the title means to other guys. Unfortunately, sweet, quiet, unassuming Teddy is the only one of the band still susceptible to the temptation of groupies. One day he’ll grow up, but until then, girls like this will rotate in and out of his life as if it’s the revolving door of a busy hotel. So this week, it’s Tabitha. Next week, who knows?
“Samantha, sort of Ollie’s sister, too.” Sam leans across me, smiling at Tabitha, before settling back into the seat as we exchange a discreet, knowing look. I’ve warned Sam off Teddy. The last thing I need is one of my friends succumbing to his boyish charm.
Garrett’s wife, Liv, pale and serene, arrives to take the final space beside us. She offers a slender hand and a shy smile. I’m surprised to see her. Garrett, the bass player, a few years older than his bandmates, draws a very firm line between his career and his personal life. He’s protective of his gentle wife, rarely subjecting her to the limelight.
