Oh, God, he was in love with Celeste Hunter. How the hell had that happened?
The worst part was, he knew exactly how and when it had happened, and he hadn’t done anything to stop it.
No. The worst part was that she didn’t love him back.
But the second-to-worst part...he’d fallen for her the moment she’d scowled at him, maybe. Or when she’d thrown coffee over his lap. Or when she’d sat in a hot tub on a boat and looked so adorably baffled by the whole experience. Or when he’d kissed her on the ice rink across the river at the Tower. Or when she’d sat through a hideous dinner with his parents. Or when she’d talked to him about history and expected him to keep up. Or when she’d told him he was nothing like the man his parents thought he was. Or when she’d kissed him in the hallway and taken him to bed. Or when she’d pulled him out of the river, or when she’d sat with him in an igloo...
The truth was, he hadn’t fallen for her once. It hadn’t been love at first sight. It had been love, inch by inch. With every story about a ghost bear or the truth about Christmas trees. He’d been fascinated from the start, but the love...that had crept in, without him even knowing it was there.
Until it was so much a part of his heart he thought it might stop beating without it.
God, he was pathetic.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on that right now. He had a show to present, and a cheery persona to find again. Cerys was right: he could mope once the work was done, and not before.
Turning his back firmly on the Tower of London, Theo took a deep breath, turned to the anxious-looking production assistant hovering nearby, and said, ‘I’m ready.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?’ Rachel asked as Celeste eased her way through the crowds of people at the Cressingham Arcade, all there to celebrate her brother and best friend’s engagement, and the new year, not necessarily in that order.
‘Sorry, I got caught up writing, lost track of time,’ Celeste lied. Well, sort of lied. The losing track of time part was real. The writing, less so.
Seemed as though ever since she’d let Theo walk away so she could focus on her academic writing, she’d written less than ever.
Rachel gave her the sort of look that told her she wasn’t buying it at all, then led her over to where the bar was situated, at the back of the arcade. Right next to the jeweller’s shop, where she’d been photographed with Theo.
That was the real reason she was late. She hadn’t wanted to come. Damon had bought her a T-shirt with that on it one year: ‘Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come.’ She should have worn it tonight.
She’d only been here with Theo for an hour or so, and yet it was already filled with memories of him. Her parents’ house was unbearable, and she wasn’t letting herself anywhere near the Tower of London.
She wanted to stay safe, locked away in her office, where there were no memories of Theo to distract her.
Rachel shoved a champagne flute into her hand. ‘Okay, time to talk. What’s going on? It’s to do with Theo, I take it?’
Celeste looked at her best friend—newly engaged, madly in love, with newfound confidence at work and in herself—and burst into tears.
‘Right. This way, then.’ Rachel bundled her towards a door, hidden away in the wall between two tiled pillars, and pushed her through it. Together, they climbed a metal staircase to a balcony Celeste hadn’t ever even noticed from the ground floor.
Sitting with their backs against the door, champagne glasses in hand, the two best friends looked up at the painted ceiling of the Victorian shopping arcade.
‘What do you see?’ Rachel asked.
Celeste blinked as the ceiling came into focus. ‘Butterflies!’
Dozens of tiny painted butterflies, so realistic she almost thought one might flutter down and land on her outstretched finger.
‘Damon brought me up here, the first time I visited the arcade,’ Rachel said. ‘He showed me so many secret things about the place. But that’s not why I fell in love with him.’
‘Why did you fall in love with him?’ As much as Celeste loved her brother, she wasn’t sure he was an automatic catch for any woman, and she still thought he’d probably got the far better end of the bargain in marrying Rachel.
‘Because he showed me the secret places inside me, too,’ Rachel said.
Celeste pulled a face. ‘If this is a sex thing, I really don’t want to hear it. That’s my brother, remember, and I’m having a hard enough time this week as it is.’
Rachel laughed, the sound ringing off the metal railings. ‘That’s not what I meant! I mean...he showed me who I could be, if I let myself. If I believed in myself, even—believed it was possible, and went after it.’
‘And here I was thinking you were the one who showed him he could fall in love, and stop jumping from one thing to the next,’ Celeste replied, bumping her shoulder against her best friend’s.
‘Maybe that’s the point,’ Rachel mused. ‘We both changed—or rather, we both found the parts of ourselves we’d stopped believing in, over the years.’
‘That sounds nice.’
‘It is,’ Rachel agreed. ‘So, what did Theo teach you about yourself?’
‘What do you mean?’ Celeste started at the question, and Rachel rolled her eyes.
‘Come on, it’s obvious that you’ve fallen for him. You’re madly in love and, to be honest, I think that was kind of inevitable from the start.’
‘Coming from someone who tried to claim that she was having nothing but a “festive fling” and ended up engaged before Christmas morning,’ Celeste grumbled.
‘So I know what I’m talking about.’ Sighing, Rachel rested her head against Celeste’s shoulder. ‘It’s just me, Celeste. Tell me everything.’
Celeste took one last look up at the butterflies, free and wild and unreal on the ceiling, and started talking.
She told her about the kiss on the ice rink, about the way Theo actually listened when she talked about weird historical facts, and didn’t mind—even liked it—when she corrected those things that everyone thought they knew. She talked about how his parents hated her, and hers hated him, and how she didn’t care. Because her parents only cared about her career, and his parents only cared about their name and their money, so why should either of them care what they thought anyway? And she talked about Christmas Eve, and the wild swim and the jeweller’s photos and then she talked about the igloos...
‘Why?’ Rachel asked. ‘Why did you tell him that your academic career was more important than what’s between you? I know you better than that, Celeste, even if he doesn’t, yet. You’re not your parents, even if you think you are. So why?’
‘You’re not your parents.’
She wasn’t sure if she’d ever realised how much she needed someone to say those words to her.
‘Because... I was scared.’ Rachel would know how much it cost her to admit it. She’d always powered through life, pretending she didn’t care when people laughed at her, or rolled their eyes and walked away when she corrected them. ‘He’s not like me, Rach. People like him. He’s friendly and nice and gorgeous and popular and—’
‘And you didn’t think you could have that?’
‘I didn’t think I could keep it. I still don’t. I’m not good at people—everyone knows that about me. So I pretended it was all about work, and my academic reputation, because I didn’t want to admit the truth. I’m in love with him and it would hurt like hell when he walked away from me like every other guy in my life has, when they realise that this is just me. I can’t not tell them when they’re wrong. I can’t play nice with their parents. And I’m going to forget about important dinners and stuff if I’m reading something interesting.’
‘Or abandon your brother and best friend at a party while you escape to the library,’ Rachel added, mildly.
She grinned. ‘I think we probably will. And I think Theo would too, if you asked him to.’
‘If I admitted I was wrong?’ That...did not sound like the sort of thing she would do.
‘Is he worth it?’
‘Yes.’ The word was out before she could even think about it. ‘But he was talking about a casual thing. We never said anything about love. And I don’t think I could take it if—’
‘Give him a chance,’ Rachel suggested. ‘You never told him you loved him, either, right?’
‘No.’
‘So tell him. Tell him you were wrong and that you love him.’
‘And what if he says he doesn’t love me back?’
Rachel gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Then you’re no worse off than you are now. And at least you’ll know, yeah?’
‘I suppose.’ It still sounded like a risky deal to her.
‘Just...trust me, okay?’ Rachel said. ‘The people we love are worth taking a chance on. Even if it means admitting we’re wrong, sometimes.’
‘Damon taught you that too?’
‘And you.’ Rachel flashed her a grin. ‘After all, it’s hard to be best friends with you for a decade without admitting you’re wrong a couple of hundred times.’
‘Very true.’ Celeste got to her feet, saying a silent goodbye to the butterflies. ‘So, this is your engagement party. I’m guessing a good maid of honour would stay until the end?’
‘As long as you promise me you’re going to find Theo and not run off to the library, I’ll cover for you.’
Grinning, Celeste pressed a quick kiss to her best friend’s cheek and raced down the stairs.
It was almost a new year. And she had to do something very important before the clock chimed midnight.
* * *
He could feel the Tower of London looming behind him, reminding him of everything he was leaving behind in the old year.
Even as midnight approached, and the crowd of revellers along the banks of the Thames grew louder, and more excitable, Theo couldn’t get himself in the right mood. Oh, he pasted on the work smile and played the part, but inside, he was thinking. Hard.
While the band of the moment played their last song before the midnight countdown, he used the break to marshal his thoughts into an order—or rather a list.
New Year’s Resolutions.
One: Finish my history degree.
He’d been working on it part-time for years now, and it was time to wrap it up. Not least because he knew, deep down, he’d only been putting it off because he still didn’t feel he deserved it.
Well, sod that. He’d done the work—or most of it anyway. Even Celeste had said it was good. So he’d finish the rest. He’d earned it. It might not be an Oxbridge first, but it was something he’d worked for himself, without any extra credit for his name or his face, and that made it all the more valuable to Theo.
Two: Figure out what I want to do next.
He’d told his parents it wouldn’t be what they wanted. Maybe he needed to say the same thing to the TV studios. Take a break, and figure out what it was that he wanted to achieve. To do something for himself, for a change. He’d made enough money from his TV career—probably even enough to save a money pit like the family home if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He could afford to take a break, a step back at least, while he got his head straight.
His whole life, he’d tried to make nice, to keep everyone on side, to earn someone’s approval at least. Hell, even fake dating Celeste had been about winning back public approval, to start with. And where had that desperate need to be liked got him?
Well, actually, it had got him pretty far in his career, he thought, looking out over the crowd cheering the band up on stage. But in his personal life?
He supposed it had brought him to Celeste, but it hadn’t been enough to let him keep her. And it had also brought him to the place where his parents thought it was okay to try and arrange a marriage for him to further their own ambitions.
That was not okay. And he’d told them so. He wanted to keep that feeling of freedom he’d experienced when he’d done it.
New Year, new Theo.
They’d called—well, his mother had, merrily whitewashing the whole of Christmas Day as if it had never happened. And normally he’d let her get away with it.
Not this time.
He’d go and see them again, as they’d asked. But he was standing firm, now. He’d tell them that he had his own life, his own career. That he was happy and successful. That if he ever married it would be because he loved the person, and it wouldn’t matter to him what they thought of his choice. Because they’d never really been particularly pleased that he was their son. Never said they were proud of him, or that they loved him. Only ever pointed out his faults.
And he had no intention of letting them do that to his wife, or any children that might be in his future.
He’d put up with it his whole life, but that was no reason anyone else had to.
What else could he put on his list for his best year ever?
Three: Fall in love.
Except he’d already done that, hadn’t he?
He shook the thought away. The band were coming to the end of the song, and he could feel the atmosphere rising around him as midnight drew closer.
This was why he loved his job; being around so many people at moments like this, connecting with them, helping them celebrate, feeling a part of it all.
He just wished Celeste were there to share it with him.
The last chord rang out across the crowd, rippling over the river, past the Tower of London behind him. The giant video screen they’d set up at the edge of the water switched from showing the band on stage, to showing him again—then split to show a live image of Big Ben, further down the river.
‘It’s nearly time, guys!’ Theo yelled into his mic, earning a roar of excitement from the crowd in return. ‘Are you ready to count down with me?’ Another screaming affirmative.
He waited until he got the signal in his earpiece, pressing it into his ear and concentrating to make sure it didn’t get lost in the noise of the party below.
‘Ten!’ he shouted, knowing from there on he was almost obsolete. He’d given them their starting line, and from here the crowd would take the momentum he’d built and run with it.
Except there was something happening, just below where he stood on the stage. Something distracting the crowd from the most important countdown of the year.
‘Nine,’ he yelled, almost a millisecond too late, as he frowned down at the scene. What was happening down there?
‘Eight!’ There was someone pushing through the crowds.
‘Seven!’ Someone with dark hair.
‘Six!’ And a familiar white coat.
‘Five!’ And bright red lips as she smiled up at him.
Celeste.
He lost his place in the countdown for a second, as he tried to process the reality of her being there, now.
‘Four!’ he yelled, slightly behind the rest of the crowd. The people at the front of the crowd were helping her up onto the stage now. Everyone knew who she was, clearly. And who she was to him.
‘Three!’ She stood before him, eyes hopeful, biting her lip.
‘I couldn’t start the new year without you,’ she shouted, the words hitting his heart.
‘Two!’ He hadn’t moved. He needed to move, to respond, something.
Celeste took a step back, and he reached out to grab her hand and pull her close against his side, as the crowd screamed for them both.
‘One!’ He looked Celeste in the eye and hoped she could read in his face everything he couldn’t say. At least, not without the crowd and millions of TV
viewers hearing it too, through his microphone.
The confetti cannons went off, the balloons sailed down river, and Big Ben bonged to mark the end of one year and the start of another.
‘Happy New Year!’ Theo yelled, to the crowd, to the viewers, to Celeste and to himself.
And then he kissed her, in front of millions of people, and there wasn’t anything fake about it at all.
* * *
Celeste fell into his kiss as if she’d been waiting aeons for it, not days. She didn’t care who was watching, or what anybody thought. She just knew she was where she belonged. Standing in the shadow of the Tower of London, kissing the man she loved.
Oh. She should probably tell him that, shouldn’t she?
‘I love you,’ she murmured between kisses.
‘I love you, too,’ he replied, just as an almighty crash tore through the air as the fireworks started. They turned to watch as the sky over the Tower was lit up with colours and patterns, and ‘Auld Lang Syne’ kicked in on the bagpipes over on the other stage.
‘I’m sorry.’ Now she was here, she felt the desperate need to tell him all the things she hadn’t, that night in the igloo. ‘I was a fool. I was scared.’
‘Me, too,’ Theo admitted. ‘Think that maybe we could be scared together?’
She smiled up at him. ‘If I’m with you, I don’t think I’ll have to be afraid.’
‘Not ever,’ he promised.
Celeste snuggled into his arms as the party continued below.
‘How much longer are you hosting this shindig for?’ she asked.
‘We’re live for another fifteen minutes. But after that... I’m all yours.’
‘For ever?’ It was a big ask. Too big. They still hadn’t talked about all the reasons she’d pulled away, or why he’d let her. All the things that were holding them back from the lives they could be living, together.
‘If you’ll have me,’ Theo replied, and she knew suddenly that none of it mattered.
Yes, they had plenty of stuff to work through, but it would all be easier with each other by their sides. They had a whole new year stretching out before them—a whole new life, even—in which to work out the details.
A Midnight Kiss to Seal the Deal Page 16