Eventually - All or Nothing #2

New Year's Eve 2022

"This is exactly the same position you were in when I left," John, still in his City casuals after returning from the Everton match, greets Aimee in the kitchen with a kiss on her cheek.

It's New Year's Eve and instead of attending the game Aimee has spent the day in the kitchen preparing canapes for the party they are hosting this evening. It had started out as a small engagement celebration, with just their families, then John had casually invited Lauren, which Aimee had thought was hilarious. 'You've invited your ex to our engagement party?! Unabashed, John had shrugged. It was Lauren's week with Hattie, and he wanted his daughter at the party, it felt mean not to invite Lauren too.

The party was doubling as a New Year's party. They couldn't have Lauren and not some of their other friends, so Aimee had invited hers along and told John to do the same. At the last count, they were expecting around 20 people, enough to make them both nervous.

Aimee had been in her element planning a menu for the evening, leaving John in charge of the booze (none of which he would be able to drink) and she had been first up today to shut herself away in the kitchen to get to work on the food. She is still there now, albeit dressed for the evening in a rose gold sequin mini dress (with an apron over it).

"Perfection takes time," she smiles. "Hands off," she roughly smacks his hand away as he reaches for one of the stuffed mini Yorkshire Puddings she has just put the finishing touches to.

"That's not something I hear you say very often." He leans against the counter, his long legs stretch out in front of him, he just gets in the way when he hovers when she is cooking; distracting her wanting affection or just a chat.

"Will you get out of here and go get ready?! People are going to be here soon. You know what they're like; always early."

"On time, you mean," he chortles; to Aimee, that is considered 'early'.

"Hurry up!" Now in front of him, having pushed herself between his legs, she undoes the zip on his hoodie. "Stop!" She cries as he leans in for a kiss, a firm hand on his chest pushing him back. "I've just done my lips."

"Fucking hell Aimee," his face contorts in disgust. "You're a terrible girlfriend you know?! Don't come to the match, don't ask what the result was, won't give me a kiss... Might take the ring back. Call the whole thing off."

She rolls her eyes, this is not the first time this week he has threatened to do this, "A terrible girlfriend," she concedes. "But an excellent host." She picks up one of the Yorkshire Puddings, one that she has put aside because it's not perfect, it's little bit misshapen but it will still taste delicious and pops it into his mouth.

John's mouth bursts with flavour the pink beef is tender and perfectly seasoned, the Yorkshire crispy on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside and the horseradish cream brings a nice heat. Still with his mouth half full he concedes, "You're not wrong about that. Wedding's still on."

"Besides," she slides her hands inside his t-shirt, rubbing them against his firm stomach muscles. "i know the result."

"How?!" He scoffs; she will have been shut up in the kitchen since he left and won't have even glanced at her phone.

"Because, when you win, you swagger in here full of big dick energy."

"No, I don't," he snorts with disgust, frown lines appearing on his forehead.

"Yes, you do. And when you lose you wander in looking like a miserable cunt."

"Don't do that either, Aims, you're so full of shit," he shakes his head.

"You do. You're doing neither today, so that means it was a draw. Sorry babe," the strokes her hands are making against his chest are soothing; he is disappointed, but he isn't going to let the result spoil his night. He can worry about work tomorrow.