"Birdie?" he called softly. I turned around.

"Wow," he breathed. He just stood and stared at me, looking amazing in some kind of vintage designer suit with skinny pants and tie. He took a couple steps toward me and stopped. "Holy fucking wow," he said again. He reached out a hand to me, and I reached out and grasped it. He pulled me to him, holding me by my shoulders.

"I have never seen anything so exquisite in all my motherfucking life," he said to me, smiling. "You look absolutely enchanting."

Exquisite. Enchanting.

Swoon.

"I'm so proud to escort you to the party tonight, I swear to Christ." In a by now familiar move, he put his hand up under my skirt, feeling what I was wearing. "Ah, god, you're going to kill me, a bloody garter, so fucking sexy." He rubbed his hand up and down.

I put my head down on his shoulder. "I love when you do that," I murmured.

"I know," he said with a soft laugh. "Nearly as much as I love to do it."

He stepped back from me a few paces, taking in all of me. He shook his head.

"I've never seen you look like this, Birdie, I can't believe you chose this dress," he remarked.

"Well, I didn't," I said. "Janelle took the measurements and altered it herself. She took a little creative license here and there, especially like with the bodice and the hemline. Let's just say that the neck wasn't quite so plunging and the hem wasn't quite so high when I chose it. She's very good at what she does, and she's going to be a hell of a designer," I said with a smile.

"Going to have to send that girl some flowers," he said with a laugh, taking me in his arms again. "And please understand that nothing I'm saying implies in any way that I don't like the way you looked before. I am so looking forward to when you get back to the curvy you that you were a few months ago, okay?" He kissed me, running his hand up my body. "I like the softer, less angular Birdie, a lot," he smiled suggestively at me. He put his hands in his pockets, and made a noise. "Oops, nearly forgot." He pulled his hand out, holding another Tiffany's box out to me.

"Teddy, what did I say about spending your money on me?" I bit my tongue when I saw the look on his face.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, shaking my head. I held out my hand. He placed the box in my hands, and I opened it. Glittering ruby earrings shone up at me.

"Janelle said they'd match the dress," he said, wide-set gray eyes on me. "Do they match? Was she right?" He seemed anxious.

I kissed him, slowly, warmly, really getting into it. I looked into his eyes, and kissed him again, rubbing noses with him. "They look beautiful. Let me put them in." I stood in front of the mirror and slipped them into the holes, standing back for the effect. They caught the lamplight, shooting off red fire. I turned to him. "They're perfect," I proclaimed. I had tears in my eyes. I hugged him hard.

"I'm trying so hard not to cry, Mel spent so much time on my eyes," I explained. "It's just that no one's ever been so generous or kind to me." I looked up into his eyes. "Thank you so, so much. You don't even know how much this means to me." I kissed him again.

He put his arms around me. "I love you, Birdie, and I love buying nice things for you. Please let me keep doing it, okay?"

I nodded in his arms. I was wearing too much jewelry, between the earrings, pendant, watch, and anklet, but I didn't care. They all had meaning to me, and they all made me happy, so fuck it.

"Are we all going in the same car?" I asked him.

"Well, we're meeting at the restaurant, then we're all going together to the hotel, so yeah," he said. "This is going to be so much fun, Birdie. We're going to get absolutely plastered. And eat so much fucking good food.

"Just please, please, be sure to be with me at midnight. I'm going to be so furious if you end up kissing someone else. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," I answered solemnly.

"Hey," I said, turning to him in the car on the way to the restaurant. "The boys are going without dates. I mean, Geth's going with Janelle, but she's his sister. So whom do they kiss at midnight?"

Teddy laughed, looking at me. "Are you seriously worried about who the men who are listed at numbers three, four, and six, on the 'sexiest man in the world' list or whatever the fuck it's called are going to kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve? I'm sure there will be a queue of women out to Covent Garden."

"So they'll just kiss whomever's at hand? Or will they pick someone at, like 11:45 and keep her close by until the clock strikes? Or what? I mean, what's the protocol?" I asked curiously.

"Did you say 'protocol'?" He looked out the window, shaking his head as he laughed at me.

I kicked him with my new shoe. "It's not very nice of you to laugh at me; I'm serious. I don't know anything! This is my first New Year's Eve party. It's actually only the second party I've ever been to. The first was the end of tour party in Japan. So just tell me how it works, please?"

He turned to me, still laughing. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Basically, we'll arrive together, we'll all be photographed to death walking in, maybe stop to answer some questions if it's not too bollocks kicking cold, then, once we get in, it's just a regular party, and all four of them are free agents for the evening. The place will be crawling with beautiful young single people and alcohol of all kinds, and probably any kind of illegal substance you can think of in the toilets, and they'll have their pick." He patted my knee. "There you have it."

"All four of them?" I asked. "There are only three, though."

"You're forgetting Janelle," he responded. "She can tie one on with the best of them."

"Really? Even with her brother there?" I asked in disbelief.

"Janelle is a grown woman, Geth knows that," said Teddy matter of factly. "He'll keep an eye on her, of course, he won't let anything happen to her, but she's free to make her own choices."

"And you honestly don't regret arriving at this sexual free-for-all already tethered to your partner?" I asked. "Never mind, there's only one answer you can give to that question, which means it didn't need to be asked.

"But then the question is, 'why go'?" I asked, turning to him again. "I mean, if the point of the party is to drink, do drugs, find someone to fuck, then fuck them, well, we can do all that at home, right? So why go?"

He pulled me into his arms. "It's also very, very fun," he said, looking at me. "It's fun to see your mates, it's fun to be drunk with everyone, it's fun to see people you haven't seen in a long time." He gave me a squeeze and nuzzled my neck. "It's fun to show off your new girl to the world, for everyone to see how absolutely beautiful and perfect she is, especially those people who thought you were a fuck up and would always be a fuck up. It's fun to see all the other women you've fucked, who told you they hated you and that you'd never find anyone because you were an emotional cripple who was incapable of commitment or any kind of real relationship--" He stopped talking and looked at me.

"Wow," I said, putting my arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. "We seem to have hit a nerve, huh?"

I stroked his hair. "People have really said those things to you?" I asked softly. "Women?"

He nodded, rubbing his cheek against my hair. "Yeah. I never let it bother me."

I lifted my head and looked at him, smiling.

"I mean, I tried not to let it bother me," he amended with a smile of his own.

"Umm," he continued. I looked at him in inquiry.

"Jennifer Jordan will probably be there," he said apologetically, and I was grateful that he didn't just use her first name, or the even more intimate shortened version.

I shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it. And it's not as though anything's going to happen, is it? She's not going to come at me with a penknife or something like that?" I sighed, and he pulled my head back down on his shoulder.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said softly into my hair. "I'm sorry you have to endure this because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants."

No. No no no.

"What are you talking about?" I queried, lifting my head to look at him. "We hadn't even met when you dated her. You have nothing to apologize for, Shelley," I remonstrated, giving him a gentle shake.

Unlike the girl who almost slept with your best friend.

"But because of all that shit while we were—were—" he stopped, even now unable to label what we'd been during those miserable months. "She hates me more than ever, and probably you, too." He put one arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap, while his other hand cupped my cheek. His face, the misery etched on his features, tore at my heart.

I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine," I told him softly. "Please don't think any more about all that. We're together now, right? Imagine how awful this night is going to be for her. I mean, for all I know, many of your past girlfriends, or hook-ups, or whomever, will be here, but she's the most high profile, and everyone knows you two were an item. Everyone's going to be watching her, all night, to see her reaction to everything we do, you know? Poor thing." I let out a sigh myself, unable to imagine what it would be like to be her.

"And that's not even taking into account her actual feelings; I mean, it sounds like she really liked you, maybe even was in love with you." He squirmed, tightening his grip around my waist. "I can't even comprehend what she must be going through."

He stared at me. "You really feel sorry for her? After everything she said about you? After she tried to break us up? After she called you fat?" he finished disbelievingly.

I had to laugh. "Of all the things you listed, you think that some adjective she threw at me is the worst thing?" I leaned in to kiss his Adam's apple, causing a hitch in his breathing, in spite of our conversation.

"I'm just saying that we have so much. We have each other. She has no one, or at least, it may as well be no one to me, because it isn't you." I smiled at him. "It's easy to be the bigger person when you have everything you've ever wanted, don't you think? Especially in this case, as I am literally the bigger person," I quipped, pecking his cheek.

"I hate it, absolutely hate it, when you make comments like that," he said, giving me a gentle shake. "You're lovely, beautiful in every way.

"Besides," he concluded. "You're so skinny right now, I don't even know if that last bit's true." He put his face down to my cleavage, moaning happily. "Except for these. How did that happen, anyway?" He looked at me interrogatively. "I thought that when women lost weight they lost it there first."

"Yeah, me too," I responded with a shrug. "I don't really know, I've never lost this much weight before. I never tried or wanted to. But yeah," I finished, looking down at myself. "They seem to be the same size as before, don't they? Kind of ridiculous. You'd think I'd have lost a cup size along the way, wouldn't you?"

"Thank the baby Jesus you didn't," he murmured, kissing first one gentle swell, then the other.

"Ah, fuck," he groaned, easing me off his lap. "Going to arrive at the restaurant with a boner, got to stop." He shook his head, hair flying. "Dead pets, dead pets, dead pets," he muttered to himself, looking out the window.

I laughed. "So how does this work after we get there? Do we pretty much stick with each other all night, or do we separate and mingle, or what?" I asked, as we pulled up at the restaurant. I looked at him. "I'm sorry to ask all these questions, but this is my first official function as your girlfriend, and I don't want to fuck it up, you know?"

"It's fine, no worries," he reassured me. "We don't have to stick together all night. I mean, the boys will be around, and other people you've met. Mike Carpenter will be there. And Janelle, of course. We'll just play it by ear, okay?

"Here we are. And it looks like everyone else has already arrived. Fabulous." He got out and held out his hand for me.

My first official night out as Theodore Shelley's girlfriend was beginning.