Page 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Theodore

Though there isn’t a single gift under my tiny, undecorated Christmas tree, I wake up happier than I ever have on this day.

I’m not the best chef, but I spent a lot of time looking up recipes to make the perfect Christmas breakfast for Tobias and me.

I spent a ridiculous amount of money on a food delivery at one am, but it’ll be worth it when we’re sitting together and eating soon, rather than waiting until dinner.

“Morning, Biscuit,” I say in a high-pitched voice as I open up her kennel. She wags her tail, whimpering in excitement. “Come on, girl. Let’s get you outside before you pee in the house.” She follows me to the back door and runs out when I open it.

After showering and changing into a fresh T-shirt and sweatpants, I let Biscuit in then get to work in the kitchen, following the recipe step-by-step.

Soon enough, my house is smelling like a wonderful mix of cinnamon and maple, and it has my mouth watering.

Tobias should be here soon, so I get a pot of coffee going.

I told him to be here around 9:30 because he worked last night, and I didn’t want to make him feel obligated to get here early if he was tired, especially since he still wanted to go by his mother's house.

While I wait for him to show, I pull out the plates, silverware, and mugs, and stock the napkins on the table.

When the doorbell rings, my stomach does a flip and Biscuit’s tail wags.

“I’m excited too,” I whisper to her as we walk to the door.

I pull it open and can’t help the smile that crosses my face when I see Tobias standing on the other side.

He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of maroon sweatpants and sneakers.

His jacket hides whatever shirt he has underneath, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’s a thermal. I love the way they look on him.

“Merry Christmas,” I say, stepping aside for him to come in.

He steps inside, kissing my cheek. “Merry Christmas,” he says, before bending down to pat Biscuit. There are two small gift bags in his hand, which he holds up to me after I close the door.

“Two?” I ask.

“One for you and one for Biscuit."

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s not much," he says as he takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack.

“It’s the thought that counts. ”

“It smells so good in here,” he comments, following me into the kitchen.

“Cooking is not my specialty, but I tried.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” he says right back at me, and we both laugh. “Open your gifts before we eat.”

“Come on, Biscuit,” I say, kneeling onto the floor with the bag that’s labeled with her name.

It’s honestly adorable that he went that far.

She nuzzles her nose into the tissue paper, sniffing.

I pull it out, then let her dig inside to pull out her gift.

“If that isn’t the cutest thing,” I say as Biscuit runs off with her stuffed biscuit .

“When I saw it, I knew I had to get it for her.”

“Let’s just hope there isn’t a stuffed Theo in mine.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and then he smirks. What I said hits me, and my cheeks burn. Instead of facing him, I dig my gift out of the bag. My breath catches in my throat at what I see. The gift itself is simple, but it’s not about what it is.

“A model car,” I say, darting my eyes up to him. There’s a small smile on his face, with a hint of sadness lingering. It only shows how meaningful this gift is.

“Same as you have in the garage. My father and I did a similar one. I still have it. Just thought it would be fun.”

I brush my fingers over the picture of the car on the box. “This is great. Thank you.”

He shrugs. “It’s not much, like I said.”

“It means a lot.” I make sure to say the words firmly, wanting him to know that I get it. That this gift is special to him, because it’s something he shared with someone special to him… and now he's sharing it with me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says with a nod.

“Let’s eat, then I’ll give you your gift,” I say, putting the box back into the bag and leaving it on the counter. “Go sit.”

Tobias takes a seat at the table as I pull the food from the oven, where I left it to stay warm.

French Toast bake, cinnamon rolls, and sausage.

Once the cinnamon rolls are on the plate, I drizzle them with the frosting.

I’d already put the silverware and syrup on the table, so I set our plates down.

Tobias’s eyes widen. “Wow, this looks good.”

“Hopefully it tastes as good. Do you want coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I pour us each a mug, bringing them to the table. “I have cream or milk, and sugar.”

“Black is fine.”

I nod and take a seat, and we start to eat our Christmas breakfast that hopefully won’t give us food poisoning.

“This is enough of a gift, Theo. It’s delicious,” he says once he has a few bites.

“I was worried it would taste like crap.”

He chuckles. “Not even close.”

We don’t talk while we devour everything, and then we get seconds. When we’re finished eating, Tobias helps me clean by wiping down the table and counters while I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. When I turn, he’s standing behind me, looking at me with a dark look in his eyes .

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks.

There’s a tickling sensation in every nerve as I nod, unsure of what he could possibly say with a look like that in his eye.

“I’d love nothing more than to fuck you today.”

Fucking hell…

“R-really?” I breathe out.

He takes a step closer, putting his palm on my cheek.

“I love the idea of you thinking about me every Christmas, for the rest of your life.”

“Fuck…”

“If you’re not ready, we don’t—”

“Oh, no. I want to.” I nod eagerly.

A smirk crosses his perfect lips. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

“Good.” His finger brushes along my cheek, before his hand drops to his side. “So, what are we going to do until then?”

My dick is achingly hard. I hoped he meant right now. Though, we did just eat, so I guess we should probably wait…

“Uh, the car?” I suggest.

“Cool.”

He grabs the bag from the counter and goes to the table to open the box.

I’ve been thinking about Tobias fucking me since I met him. I want this. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I can’t believe it’s finally going to happen—Merry Christmas to me.

Two hours later, we’re staring at the model car we put together. It needs to sit for a while so the glue can dry completely before we paint it, but all the pieces lined up properly and it looks pretty damn good.

“I’ve never done one of these before,” I admit.

“No? Not even with your love of cars?”

I shake my head. “This isn’t the type of gift my parents give.” He gives me a sympathetic look. “They bought me a very new, very real car.”

His brows shoot up. “Seriously?”

I nod. “Yeah, a fucking Bentley.”

Tobias frowns. “Don’t you already have one of those?”

“My father said I needed a new one.”

‘Damn.”

“I’m not going to use it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” I lean back in my seat, staring at him as the lie falls from my lips with ease. I know exactly why I won’t use it. “I feel like I didn’t earn it.”

“You don’t have to earn Christmas gifts.”

I shake my head, my stomach a mess again.

“They gave it to me on Christmas, but it wasn’t a Christmas gift.

Not really.” I can tell Tobias wants me to keep going, so I explain.

“I recently helped my father partner with another company, and he was so proud he bought me the car. But I didn’t put as much work into the project as he thinks I did. ”

“Maybe that’s your opinion, but if he thinks you did, that’s all that matters.”

“It feels like I’m lying,” I admit.

How true those words are…

They’re true because I am lying to everyone around me.

“Are you lying?” he asks, watching me carefully.

There’s a sudden tension in the air, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to spill my guts because the guilt is weighing on me, making me sick. But I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want this to go away. I’m being selfish, so I answer, “No.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” He gets up, pushing the car closer to the center of the table. “You want to take Biscuit for a walk?” he asks.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

Just what I need to get my mind off of how much of an asshole I am.