Page 93 of Short Stack 3

He waves a casual hand. “Oh, just something to do with Christmas.”

Realisation dawns. “Ah, is it my present?” I wink at him. “I hope it’s big and long.”

Freddy snorts. “You’ll have to settle for small and temperamental.”

“Hey,” Tom says indignantly. “My dick is not an opera singer.”

Diana starts to laugh, and I gaze at her with affection. I really like her, so I hope Freddy keeps her. Considering how Freddy is with her, I’d say this is it for him, and nothing would make me happier than to see him happy. Arlo and Jack sit close together, as well, I note, feeling pleased. Their awareness of each other is very evident.

And I seem to have become a romantic matchmaker, which is ironic given the previous trajectory of my life. Abandoning that disturbing thought, I head for the door.

I suck in a breath when I get outside. The air is cold, and you can almost feel the snow on the wind. I look around in appreciation. Since I’ve been with Tom, we’ve travelled to all sorts of places together. He’d taken the fact that I’d rarely moved outside of Oxford and London as a challenge and bookedweekends away and holidays. I love travelling with him. He’s my best friend and my lover all rolled into one, and I’ve never been with someone where it’s been so easy and natural, as if we’ve been together forever.

After clicking on Ivy’s contact picture, I hear the phone ring.

“Hey,” she says breathlessly when she picks up. The background is noisy, and it sounds like she’s at a bar.

“Hey, lovely. How’s it going?”

“Oh my god. Never mindthat. What did yousay?” she squeals.

I blink. “Erm, I said, ‘Hey, lovely. How’s it going?’” I say very slowly.

There’s a long pause, and her voice sounds almost wary when she speaks. “Why are you ringing?”

“Just touching base. I’m not going to see you over Christmas, and I miss you.”

There’s another pause. “Oh, I miss you too,” she says quickly, her tone suspiciously even now.

I narrow my eyes. “Have you been drinking?”

“What? Oh, yes. Yes, I have.Somuch drinking.”

“Okay, lush. I’ll speak to you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she says fiercely. “I’m so pleased for you.”

“Are you? Why?”

“Oh. Erm, no reason. Because you’re in Amsterdam?”

“You’re such a weirdo,” I say lovingly and then end the call.

A text sounds, and when I look down, I read confirmation that we have tickets for tomorrow. I punch the air and shout, “Yes! Rembrandt.”

“What are you doing?” The amused voice comes from behind me, and I spin to find Tom watching me. His wavy hair is blowing in the breeze, and the colour in his cheeks has made his grey eyes glow.

I must be the luckiest man alive, I think as I move towards him. He opens his arms almost automatically, folding them around me and hugging me tightly.

“I was celebrating,” I say, hissing in satisfaction as he wraps his coat around both of us.

“Oh yes? Any particular reason?”

I look up at him. “I got the tickets for the Rembrandt exhibition.”

His lip twitches. “That’swonderful.”

“Please don’t even bother—” I start to laugh and can’t finish the sentence.

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