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“Come in,” I said. “Please.”
She came in. She put the plate of leftovers on my counter. Then she took her red coat off, and her scarf, and her jumper, and kept going, standing in my kitchen with snow melting in her hair, until she was down to a pair of Christmas pants with puddings on them.
“These were a joke present from Gemma,” she said, scarlet. “I did not plan this.”
I kissed her. She tasted of mulled wine and cold air. I picked her up and she wrapped her legs round me and I carried her to my bed, still in my dressing gown, both of us laughing.
There was no envelope. No rules except the important ones. She rolled a condom onto me herself and pulled me inside her, and we went slowly, so slowly, foreheads pressed together, the snow falling outside the window. She came with a soft cry and her nails in my back. I came with her.
Later we ate Mum’s leftover turkey in bed, cold, with our fingers. Then the trifle. She fed me a spoonful and licked the custard off my chin and that turned into round two, faster and messier and far louder.
At midnight Gemma texted us both. “Is he alive?”
Tess texted back from my pillow. “Very.”
“Good. Say happy Christmas from me x”
Tess put the phone down and grinned. “Happy Christmas, Ben.”
Ending 15 of 16: Leftovers. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.