by Bloom, Anna
Acknowledgments
This is the surprise Christmas story I decided to write on a whim. I have my Jane Austen loving friend Louise to thank for inspiring this Christmas short. I always wanted to write it, but it was stuck in the back of my mind hidden behind too many other storylines. I received an email from her a while back and something she said worked like a magic key and unlocked the story from its hiding place. I then set about capturing Ben’s Christmas story like I was being chased by the hounds of hell before it could disappear again. I listened to Three Door’s Down “Here Without You,” about fifty times getting it right. I hope it was worth it.
Thank you.
A.B
For
AW
For inspiring me with your bravery
Copyright © 2013 Anna Bloom
All rights reserved
Thank you for purchasing this eBook. Please keep this book in its complete original form with the exception of quotes used in reviews. No alteration of content is allowed. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet without the author’s permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
New Adult Contemporary Romance: This book is not recommended to anyone under the age of sixteen due to strong language and scenes of a sexual nature.
Cover Design by Shirer Burkett
Christmas Eve
The call that saves Christmas arrives at ten.
I am sitting like a sad fuck by myself because mum announced this afternoon that she does not want me around. It seems that I am ruining everyone else’s ‘Season to be Merry’ by moping about the house, singing ballads, and drinking whiskey.
Instead of joining in the festive cheer downstairs I’m up in my room, pretending to play guitar. I say pretending, because I’m really staring at the ceiling wondering just what Delilah McCannon is doing. Lilah McCannon: A.K.A The Girl of my Dreams isn’t with me, which she should be. Technically she is not even talking to me.
Nope, I made sure that I wasn’t going to be spending Christmas with Lilah weeks ago when she found me passed out with Becky, from our history degree, lying next to me on my bed. It’s ironic really because Mum always taught me to never leave a girl stranded and if you can help someone you should. So I did, and the only person I did not help was myself. I’ve come to the conclusion that helping people sucks.
Lilah has not spoken to me since. Not one word. Okay she did send me a one worded text, but that is all in weeks. I, in turn am giving her some ‘space,’ as I have been advised to do by our mutual friends. Giving someone ‘space’ sucks too.
It’s killing me - a whole lot of ‘Death by Lilah McCannon Ignoring Me.’
Now, what I have really wanted to do is march straight into her room, and get myself right into her space, preferably initiating some skin on skin contact. I want to tell her that we just need to stop messing about. That I want to ask her to marry me but I can’t the whole damn time we are ignoring each other. Asking someone to marry you while they are not talking to you is physically impossible. Well, if not impossible; it definitely has embarrassment written all over it.
“Lilah, I have been madly in love with you since the first time I ever saw you, will you marry me?”
To which she would reply. . . Nothing. Although I guess she may slam a door in my face which in many ways is more of an answer than I would want.
Lilah hasn’t come back to our shared Halls of Residence dorm since the day of The Black Underwear, as I like to call the disastrous day when Lilah barged into my room and found Becky Brown-Roots face down on my bed dressed only in a thong. And whilst I have been loitering in the hallway at her flat in Putney, she has never technically opened the door to me. So I haven’t been able to speak to her. Touch her. Kiss her. Have sex with her. Definitely, definitely not have sex with her. And damn, I miss that bad. I have spent a lifetime running away from girls and all types of physical contact (unless completely shit-faced and not able to control my bodily functions).
Two and a bit months ago Lilah opened up my mind to just how it can be with someone and now I can’t stop thinking about it. In a few short weeks I’ve turned into a stereotypical, sex obsessed Neanderthal specimen of the male species with the single word ‘Sex’ running through my head on average every thirty seconds. The slight difference being that I only want to have sex with her. And I want to only have sex with her forever.
Fuck. Need to stop thinking about it. It’s making it worse.
I have got a huge decision to make and I don’t feel that I can make it without talking to her first. I can’t visualise my future without Lilah in it, so how am I supposed to make crazy big life choices without discussing them with her?
The band has been offered the chance to go to the States next summer to make an album. So that would mean leaving her. Not that we are together right now, but I have a semi-formed plan in place where I intend to wear her down until she finally gives in and accepts the inevitable – that we are just meant to be together. There is no way I will be able to do that if I’m not in the country annoying her by following her around and pestering her. What I really want to do is ask her to come with me.
My phone starts to ring and I instantly think ‘Lilah!’
Of course it’s not. But it is the other McCannon.
Tristan, Lilah’s brother, is the last person I am expecting to hear from the night before Christmas. It’s fair to say the McCannon twins don’t get on well.
“Fancy Christmas dinner?” Is Tristan’s opening line.
“What do you mean?”
“Delilah’s cooking Christmas dinner.” He leaves his words dangling and there is a moment of silence whilst I wait for him to clarify just what it is he is suggesting. “If Lil’s cooking then I think we should gate-crash.”
Lilah. Lilah. Lilah.
Lilah is cooking? Really?
“She hates me. There is no way she will let me in.” I sigh and glare up at the ceiling just for the hell of it.
“And you listen to her because?”
I have to think about this. Why do I listen to her? Why don’t I just march in there and get right into her space and make her kiss me so I can feel the ‘Lilah Effect’ just one more time. “I’m in Dorset.” This is my explanation as to why I can’t go. Fuck, why did I come back to Dorset?
“So am I you knob head. Give me your address and pack a bag. Then we are going to get Meredith.”
“Really?”
“Really. Come on Ben, I’m driving around Lyme Regis like an idiot. I’m going to get stopped by the police for curb crawling soon.”
Fifteen minutes later he is at the door. Obviously, Mum makes him come in and have a cup of tea. No one can escape that. But as soon as we can we dash for the car, me with just my guitar and a change of clothes. The next stop is Suffolk to pick up Meredith, Tristan’s girlfriend and Lilah’s best friend. The stop after that is Lilah herself.
This is it. I am going to make Lilah forgive me, and I am also going to ask her to come to the States with me. Well, I am going to try to – if she lets me in the door.
Christmas Day
We are pulling into the underground parking at a huge swanky block of flats in Putney. It’s been a strained journey from Suffolk. Tristan and I had to stay overnight in a B&B in the end, which cost Tristan a small fortune what with it being Christmas Eve. Meredith’s Dad went completely mental when we turned up on the door step aski
ng if Meredith fancied coming on a Christmas adventure. Meredith’s Dad opened up the door probably expecting some carollers, and instead found two men in their mid-twenties trying to whisk his teenage daughter away for Christmas. It’s hardly surprising he went nuts.
We backtracked and went to the B&B. Meredith called Tristan at six this morning and said she was ready to leave. She has not said a word the whole way, but instead has clutched Tristan’s hand tightly. I keep glancing at their touch and feeling this insane stab of jealousy. I so wish it was Lilah and I off on a Christmas adventure, grabbing hands like we never want to let go.
It’s okay. In two minutes I’ll be upstairs breathing the same air as her and it will take every shred of my self-restraint to not grab her, kiss her and carry her off to the bedroom.
Outside the car we all stop because there is a terrible noise filling the garage. It sounds like it is coming through one of the air vents in the garage ceiling.
“Jesus, do you think there is an injured cat somewhere?” Meredith says. She casts her eyes about the dim parking lot and I join her looking for the animal.
“Nah,” Tristan says, “That, my friends, is Lilah singing. Welcome to my world.”
I tune my ears back into the noise. No way. There is no way the love of my life makes that sort of noise. Is there? Bloody hell, I don’t think I have ever heard her sing before. It’s truly awful, but at the same time it makes me want to get my hands on her even more. I want to be upstairs right now, listening to her sing.
I march towards the lift and press the call button. Nothing happens. I press again and then again.
“It takes about five minutes,” Tristan informs me. I give a little ‘tsk’ of annoyance and start marching towards the stairs.
“What’s his deal?” I hear Meredith whisper to Tristan. It’s only the second time she has spoken since we left her parents farmhouse.
“I would imagine he wants to get laid,” Tristan replies. I don’t bother to turn and offer him a rude gesture. Instead, I push through the door to the stairwell.
Lilah lives in the Penthouse and, well, that would normally be a killer but I have determination combined with desperation on my side and I take the stairs two at a time.
The lift opens just as I come hauling through the door.
“You really are a dick,” Tristan says. There is a serious level of disdain in his voice, but I have my head down between my knees trying to catch my breath and can’t come up with a suitably witty response. He starts to get the key ready to slide into the lock.
“Hold on a minute,” I gasp. “There is no way I want her to see me looking like this.”
Meredith giggles and tucks her arm through Tristan’s. Obviously we have now cleared enough space between her and her parents for her to start to relax a little.
The burning in my lungs is just starting to lessen when the painfully tuneless singing picks up again. What on earth is that? Avril Lavigne as she has never sounded before? I start to grin, I can’t help myself.
“Open the bloody door, Trist.”
“Hold on, hold on. I think I’d better go in first, just in case she throws something and it damages your rock star face.” He elbows me back out of the way again. I concede but I don’t want to. I want to be the first through that door.
She is still singing away as we pad down the hallway. I leave my guitar case by the door just in case I am booted out again, sharpish. I am smiling like a bloody idiot as we walk towards the kitchen. Lilah is in the kitchen? It must be true, she is going to attempt a Christmas dinner.
“Got room for a few more, Avril? You know your singing can be heard from all the way down in the car park right?” Tristan calls, ducking around the door. Something clatters to the ground and there is a moment of deathly silence.
That’s it. That is the limit of separation I can take. I start to walk towards the door, but Meredith gives me a cheeky look and ducks right in front of me. The cow. Now I am the last one coming through.
Lilah is standing there covered in vegetable peelings, her mouth hanging open in surprise. She looks at me, her mouth still open for at least ten seconds. That’s ten seconds of me wanting real bad to kiss her. Real bad. To stop myself from launching at her and borderline assaulting her I offer her a grin and a shoulder shrug. After all, I am not sure how a full on vegetable peel covered snog will be received. A shrug is safer in the circumstances. She hesitates towards me, and for the briefest second I see her glance at the bin.
Okay, that is a bit strange but its Lilah so nothing is ever normal.
I’m about to say something, maybe ask if she’s hiding some hot guy dressed only in a pinny inside the bin when she speaks first. “I thought you were in Dorset?”
I offer what I like to think is my most charming smile. “I was, but then I heard you were cooking, and that is something I cannot possibly miss.”
I start to unwind my scarf from around my neck. She is watching me intently, her mouth still open, and then before I can even react she is across the room and in my arms. Oh okay, she technically may have one arm loosely slung around Meredith, but I quickly shoulder Meredith out of the way and slide my hands along Lilah’s throat. I could just lean in and kiss her. I am so close to making the move, but I hold myself back, and instead I just make sure that every available inch of my body is pressed against hers. We fit together perfectly. I run my fingertips along her jawline and up into her hair. She stares at me and I stare at her and for the briefest moment I think this could be it. She is so going to forgive me now. I am about to lean my lips down to hers when she turns to Tristan and offers him a broad, open smile. He looks as surprised as I am. Actually she is smiling at us all with a wide goofy grin plastered across her face.
“According to Deliah, dinner will be served at Approximately 11.45.” She gives her hands a theatrical wave and we all start to giggle which in turn makes her glare at us. She can’t keep it up though. “Deliah suggests that if dinner is going to be late we all get snot flying drunk on sherry instead.”
Everyone cheers and Tristan steps up to a cupboard and starts grabbing glasses, before heading into the lounge with Meredith and Lilah. Lilah is hugging her best friend like crazy and it makes me feel very warm and fuzzy, although also strangely jealous because I wish she was walking into the lounge with her arms tight around my waist.
After they have left the room I sneak a peak in the bin. I can’t help but laugh, underneath a mountain of vegetable peelings is a Terry’s Chocolate Orange wrapper and the plastic layer from inside a mince pie box. I can just about make out the top of a bottle of Bristol Cream. This explains the goofy grin.
Following the others into the lounge I have one clear game plan in mind. Get Lilah to drink more sherry then hopefully she will be so blotted by the evening she will not be able to resist any moves I make.
I allow myself an evil laugh and throw myself on the sofa. I make sure to sit on the same one as her, but at the other end. Tristan shoots me a questioning look as he leans over to fill my sherry glass. “Allow me.” I say and take the bottle.
“Okay.” He gives a shrug and turns his attention to Meredith. I reckon it will be five minutes before they are locking lips which gives me five minutes to get Lilah to relax next to me.
“Turkey hey?” I fill her glass and move myself three inches closer. She doesn’t notice. Instead her eyes watch me, it looks like she may be trying to count my freckles again, and she gives her head a shake and offers me a small smile.
“Yeah, I have been really bored. It seemed like a good idea?”
Shit she is actually talking to me. Talking without glaring or stomping off.
“Seemed like?”
“Yeah. Did you know Brussel sprouts are a complete pain in the arse.”
I snort my sherry right up my nose. That’s so cool. Not. I try and discreetly wipe the dribble of sherry away. “Yeah, my mum always makes me do them.”
She thinks about this with her head cocked slightly to the side. �
�So whose doing them today?”
“I don’t care.”
Okay lay off the intense.
“So what you been doing?” She knocks back her sherry and avoids eye contact. I instantly reload her glass to the very brim. The glass is impossible to pick up without spilling. Lilah has to bend down to slurp up a sip. This affords me a gratuitous glance at her arse.
“Sorry.” I give an apologetic shrug at my shit drink pouring skills.
“So what you been doing?” she asks again.
Uh. Sitting in my room like a sad fuck thinking about you? “Uh, you know just essays and stuff. What about you?”
“Same.”
“Really?” I can’t keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Nah. History books are bloody boring.”
I am not sure what happens at that moment but in one movement she relaxes and leans back against the pillows placing her feet on the sofa next to me.
More sherry.
I knock back a glass of my own before trying to shimmy my knees closer to her feet. If I could just get some form of physical contact I am sure it would lessen the hideous burn I have located in my stomach. “History books are boring, and I think it would be criminal to read them until the very last minute.” I attempt to crinkle my freckles at her, she used to love that.
Something works because she edges her toes under my thigh.
More sherry.
I pour more for the both of us and notice Tristan and Meredith watching us. Meredith is bouncing with excitement. I send her a quick head shake to get her to calm the fuck down. Jeez, she just has her toes under my thigh. It’s not like she has agreed to marry me yet.
Although I may ask her later. Lilah is still not saying very much, she is just leaning against the cushions watching me intently. What the hell is she thinking? It’s going to drive me mental not knowing.
“I’m hungry,” she states. Okay not quite the ground breaking, would you like to come and live in the States with me, conversation I was building up to.
