9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rhys

I wanted to hate Christmas or simply not care, but again I failed spectacularly. By ten on Christmas Eve Day I was just as depressed as every year and already eyeing the three bottles of eggnog on my kitchen counter.

Is it acceptable for someone who is all alone on Christmas to start drinking before noon?

That I hadn’t heard from Liam since we had parted ways in Inverness last month helped very little to make me feel better.

Sometimes I caught myself thinking about the whirlwind of a weekend we’d had. And, especially when I was alone in my bed at night, of the way he felt inside me, of that ridge, and the many ways in which he had made me come.

Yeah, not helping .

I contemplated the bottles from where I sat at my kitchen table.

I should have a little more to eat before I start on them .

I might not be as much of a lightweight as I looked, but I didn’t need a catchup with my toilet on Christmas Eve.

My phone chimed with a message. Before I could get my hopes up, I spotted the name in the preview: Bee with a few actual bee emojis around it.

Bee: Happy Christmas, babe! If you change your mind about celebrating with us lmk!! You say the word and K and I come pick you up. Love you, bestie! B ) Hope you’re having a good Christmas. Brownie Daddy: That mouth of yours… Brownie Daddy: Are you working today, or are you at your family’s place already? Rhys: neither Brownie Daddy: or celebrating with someone else. Sorry, not trying to interrogate you

Shit, Liam. Who the fuck do you think I met in the last five weeks that left enough of an impression for me to spend Christmas with them?

Rhys: I’m alone. My parents died a few years ago, and I have no siblings.

Or friends who care enough about me. Not fair, Rhys. B invited you. More than once. You know he meant it.

Brownie Daddy: I’m sorry Rhys: It's okay. My friends Egg and Nog are keeping me company

I added a winking emoji to lighten the mood.

It’s Christmas after all.

Rhys: What about you? Are you still working? Brownie Daddy: No. Fergus and I were about to head to my parents’ house Rhys: That’s nice Brownie Daddy: Yeah Brownie Daddy: So, are you going to be at a friend’s house tomorrow? Rhys: Nope, I’m not the kind of person you’d want around on Christmas Brownie Daddy: Why not?

Because I’m a sulking asshole.

Rhys: I’m the fun friend you go to parties with or have brunch and champagne, not the ‘part of the family’ friend Rhys: nobody would want me at their family celebrations Brownie Daddy: That’s not true Rhys: no need to be nice, it’s okay Brownie Daddy: I’m not being nice. I’m being honest. And I need you to give me your address, pup. Rhys: Why? Brownie Daddy: Give me your address, Rhys. Rhys: No? Brownie Daddy: Yes. I’m serious, pup. Now. Rhys: 46 Aspen dr in Kirkmuir. Do I want to know? Brownie Daddy: No.

I kept staring at our chat for an hour after his last message had come through, reading and re-reading.

Is he ordering food for me? A last-minute present?

Just as I finally caved and moved to open the first bottle, the doorbell rang.

I didn’t want to be excited about what he’d thought of but bounded to the door anyway. When I flung it open, though, I stared in shock at the ginger Father Christmas in a kilt and knit jumper outside my flat.

I fought the urge to fly at him and hide from the world in his broad chest.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, painfully aware of how weak my voice sounded.

Liam nestled his beard into the cowl of his grey jumper, looking entirely unsure of himself.

“I came to invite you to celebrate Christmas with us.”

“Us?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Fergus, me, and my family.”

“That’s a bad idea, Liam.” I crossed my arms before my chest, mainly so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him.

It was.

You don’t want the Grinch there.

He stepped closer, and I suppressed a whine. His outfit really wasn’t fair.

Gods, I missed him.

“Pup.” His voice rumbled in his chest as his hands took a firm hold of my hips and pulled me into his body. “You’re either coming with me, or we’re staying at your place. It would be a shame to miss out on my aunt’s cooking. And I’m not sure you’d like having Fergus here,” he added. The hands squeezed my ass, making me harden against his thigh.

“Oh yes, Rhys.” His lips pressed a soft kiss to my temple. “If you want, I’ll certainly take care of that , too.”

“I need you to, please. But are you sure you want me there? I’m a spoilsport,” I tried to reason with him one last time.

Liam crowded me inside my flat, the door slamming shut behind us as he cupped my cheek and plunged his tongue between my lips.

By the time he let go of me, it was only the press of his bulky body to mine keeping me upright.