Chapter Twenty-Two
Nico
“Did you have any plans for New Year?” Toby asked when we were lying in bed a couple of days after Christmas. A winter storm had blown in, so it was cold, windy, and pissing it down, and since neither of us had anywhere to be, we’d just decided not to get out of bed.
I’d lost rock, paper, scissors, so I’d ventured downstairs to make some drinks and retrieve some picky bits that we’d count as breakfast before hurrying back upstairs. Toby’s house was so fucking cosy and warm it made it difficult to ever want to leave.
And that was if I ignored the growing feelings in my chest for the gorgeous man currently stretched out next to me, wearing both my boxers and an old hoodie that he’d nicked.
He’d stolen more than my clothes over the past few weeks. He’d stolen my heart too.
I didn’t really know when it had happened. It just had without me realising.
One day he’d been irritating me with his charming smiles and enthusiasm, and the next I couldn’t wait to see him for the same reasons.
He’d warmed the cracked, frozen caverns of my heart, injecting sweetness and sunshine into my life.
If anyone else had acted like him, I’d have hated it, but Toby had captivated me in a way I couldn’t explain.
And in the last few weeks, my feelings for him had rooted themselves so strongly I didn’t know if anything could shake them.
It almost felt like they were embedded in my brain the same way my basic dance training was. I couldn’t get rid of these feelings the same way I couldn’t get rid of my ability to do a waltz in my sleep.
Maybe it was too soon to say that, but that was how I felt and I wasn’t going to fucking lie about it.
“No,” I said as I dunked a piece of gingerbread in my coffee. “I bloody hate New Year. Who the fuck wants to go out on the busiest night of the year and get crushed in some sweaty bar with people you barely tolerate?”
“I’d thought that would be your answer,” Toby said with a wry smile.
“Please don’t tell me you love it.”
“God no! I’ve been to so many New Year’s parties over the years and every single one of them was a disappointment.
The last few years I’ve realised all I want to do is stay in, put my comfies on, and watch the fireworks at midnight.
If I make it that far! Last year I actually went to bed at about eleven and completely slept through. ”
“Sounds perfect,” I said as I re-dunked my gingerbread, trying to avoid bits of it breaking off and sinking to the bottom of my mug. “Did you want to do that again?”
“Maybe, although Kane and Austin did invite us over for a quiet night in with everyone. Dinner, drinks, maybe some films. Kane said the dress code is just cosy. And we wouldn’t have to stay late, if you didn’t fancy it.”
“Do you want to go?” I asked, because he didn’t seem sure.
I wasn’t totally opposed to the idea as long as it wasn’t a huge party with a ton of people.
Toby’s friends were nice guys, so they weren’t strenuous to spend time around, but I didn’t fancy anything where I had to socialise with a load of new people I didn’t give a shit about.
“I think so. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because they want to spend more time with you. Also, I have this nagging feeling that it might become a dual-purpose celebration because I’m pretty sure André was having a ring made for Luke. And I’d hate not celebrating with them.”
“We can definitely go then,” I said. “We don’t have to stay late if you don’t want. There’s no obligation for us to be there until one in the fucking morning.”
“I suppose. And maybe on New Year’s Day we can just spend the whole thing in our PJs and doing fuck all,” Toby said with a sly smile, shooting me a look over the rim of his mug as he sipped his tea. “Maybe order a takeaway? Watch some films? Have sex?”
“Fuck it, let’s do that.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
I chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, you know if you don’t want to do something social, you don’t have to.”
“I know, and I’m getting better at declining invitations.
But these are my friends, so I can’t really say no, and I don’t really want to.
Even if I am tired and just want to snooze in bed like a little cosy dormouse.
” He smiled softly, a tiny flush on his cheeks.
“I’ve been so used to doing things because I’m expected to, and I’m not always the best at saying no.
Even if I want to. I’m getting better, though, especially about things like shitty industry parties. ”
“Okay. In future, if you want to say no to something but don’t know how or, I don’t know, need someone to give you permission to say no because it makes it easier on your brain, then let me know and we’ll sort it.
It’ll probably be bloody hard at first, but if you just say, ‘I’ve been asked to do this thing but I’m not sure I want to’ or ‘I’d rather do this instead,’ then I can help you say no.
Or decide for us, if you want. But you have to let me know what you actually want because I’m not here to play games or read your mind. ”
I knew it had to be hard to turn things down after spending so many years being expected to say yes to things for his career or to manage his position in the industry, and I was happy to play the arsehole if it helped Toby figure out what he wanted.
“Sounds good,” he said, reaching out under the duvet to put his hand on my thigh. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
“This is why I love you. You always know exactly what I need. And you don’t mind being the bad guy to get me out of terrible social things.” He said it casually, almost without thinking. Then stared at me in shock as he processed what he’d said. “Oh…”
I leant over and gently brushed my lips against his, careful not to spill my coffee all over him. “Do you mean it, sweetheart? Do you love me?”
“Yes, yes, I do. I love you, Nico. I’ve never said that before, not in a relationship anyway.
That’s… oh…” He put his hand on his chest and smiled.
“My chest feels funny. All tight and hot. It’s not bad, though.
At least, I don’t think it is. You don’t think I’m having a heart attack, do you, darling? That would be awful.”
“No, I don’t,” I said, kissing him again before putting my coffee down and then interlacing my hand with his where it was resting on his chest. “I think that’s just how it feels when you love someone, at least to start with.”
“Does yours… does it feel the same?”
“Yeah, it does.” I squeezed his hand gently and smiled. “I love you, Toby. You’ve surprised me in ways I didn’t think were possible.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding so shocked it made me snort.
“Yeah, really. I had no idea what you were going to be like when we were paired together but I didn’t think this would happen. You surprised me in the best way.”
“You surprised me too. You were so frosty!” He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I thought I was going to need a blowtorch to get through your grumpy attitude!”
“Yeah, well, you’d be grumpy too after spending six weeks with Jean.”
“Undoubtable. Although I almost wonder if I should thank someone for pairing you with her because if that hadn’t happened, they might have given me someone else and that would’ve been horrible.”
“You’re not thanking anyone,” I said with a laugh, pulling his arm and gently tugging him towards me.
He fell into my lap, laughter bubbling out of him.
He was so fucking gorgeous like this, red hair fanning out across the duvet and his face all scrunched up.
There was an unguardedness to him, an openness that I knew very few other people had ever gotten to see.
It reminded me how bloody lucky I was, and I promised myself that I’d never take this for granted.
Toby had opened his heart to me. And I would protect that with my life.
“You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?” he asked, a flash of worry crossing his face as he gazed up at me, his head still resting in my lap.
“After all, it’s only been, what, eight, nine weeks since we started training?
And we’ve only been doing this for a couple of weeks, longer if you count the hooking up before the show was recorded. ”
“Does that matter? We know how we feel, that’s what’s important. Time’s fucking soup anyway. Who gives a shit if it’s only been nine weeks or whatever.”
“That’s true.”
“And we don’t have to tell anyone until we’re ready. Yeah, my family know, and Megan. Obviously, Mrs N. And I’m guessing your boys have figured it out too—”
“I assume so,” he said. “I haven’t actually confirmed it. But they were awfully keen on me bringing you to New Year.”
“There we go then. But we don’t have to tell anyone else unless you want to. It’s our relationship. We can do whatever the fuck we want. Besides, with your fucking private security at the gates, nobody is getting in here.”
“Also true, and I could ask Malcolm about hiring Mo more regularly so we can go out if we want. Oh, I should probably tell Malcolm too, out of politeness at least—the poor man is already losing his hair, and I don’t want him to pull any more out.
Also, there’s the PR firm I use for my socials and stuff.
Then they’ll at least be ahead of things.
But we can sort all of that out in January.
And if we do decide to tell anyone, it can be on our timeline, not anyone else’s.
Especially because I don’t want it affecting your career with Come Dancing With Me, or your studio plans. ”
He sighed happily, a contented smile crossing his face.
“Although, the press will have much more interesting things to deal with if André has proposed. I wonder who Luke will get to make their wedding cake, because I doubt he could make his own. That’s far too much stress.
Do you think if they need help with their first dance, you could teach them?
I’m not sure how good either of them is at dancing, although I suppose André isn’t too bad because he does musicals. ”
“Sure, I can help them if they want.”
“You’re a gem, darling,” he said. He wiggled a little in my lap, twisting his head slightly to face towards me.
His hand reached for the edge of the duvet where it was laid across my waist. “Mmm, and now that’s all sorted, I think I want to show you how much I love you.
You didn’t have any plans for today, did you? ”
“No,” I said. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Excellent.” He smirked and tugged the duvet lower.