Page 94 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
Well, no. I got laid off, remember? But mentally, I totally did.
And now you’re mentally sending it back? Way to save on return postage. I’ve taught you well.
Aren’t you at least happy I’m not the Grinch anymore?
I’m happy that you’re happy.
That kind of makes it seem like you’re not.
I just want my little Grinch to find TRUE peace with the holidays—not because she got distracted by a handsome Who.
Ugh. What did Piper know, anyway? She couldn’t even solve the Riemann hypothesis—whatever that was. Nicklikedme. Enough to shout it out loud over a Christmas marching band. I still didn’t fully understand how he came to such a realization after the crazy way I’d acted all week, but he had. And this whole holiday was finally being redeemed.
One subtle little kiss at a time.
Like now. Nick planted a quick peck on the side of my head as we bent to tie our ice skates from a shared bench. I looked up, and we exchanged a smile. His dimple was in full alert—because of me? Warmth flooded my skin under my beanie and ski jacket.
“Ready for this?” Nick stood and reached out his hand.
I took it and wobbled to my feet. “I was born ready, Kinsley.”
Despite my verbal bravado, I penguin-walked to the edge of the ice, clutching Nick’s arm with one mittened hand. A few days ago, I would have been obnoxious about it, really playing it up for Ryan’s sake. But today, the action was real.
We slid carefully onto the ice. Dozens of strands of twinkle lights draped across the open-air rink, which was surrounded by bleachers for the not-so-ambitious observers, and benches for those of us daring to risk the ice—and our ankles. Christmas music pulsed overhead, occasionally punctuated by the shouts of children and the slush of ice as young adults showed off tricks.
After the half-disastrous and half-amazing Santa outing that morning (each half being for obvious reasons), we’d decided togo ice skating after dinner—largely thanks to Mason and Janie’s pleading that Christmas was “almost over.” Much to the kids’ surprise, the adults had readily agreed. All except Kat, who claimed another headache—though I think it was just a ploy to have the house to herself again and watchIt’s a Wonderful Life.She was probably going to try to FaceTime Devin again, which was good. She seemed like she could use a boost.
Olivia, who said she was too old to skate and couldn’t break a bone this close to forty, sat out with Mom and drank hot chocolate while Dad helped the grandkids wobble around the rink with a training rig that looked like Great-Grandma Sinclair’s walker. Ryan and Lydia couple-skated in perfect choreography, like they were starring in an ice version ofDirty Dancing,while nearby, Chloe tried to teach Axel a few basic steps.
“Can I have one of those?” Axel pointed to Mason’s walker and Chloe patiently shook her head.
“If you can surf, you can skate.” She skated backward, holding his hands as he fought to keep his legs under him.
“How do you know that?” Axel tugged one hand free and windmilled, then grabbed back onto Chloe. “You don’t surf.”
Chloe shrugged, blinking her long fake lashes at him. “You use your legs in both, don’t you?”
“Ahh. Smart.” He shook his sun-streaked hair out of his eyes. “Hey, at least there aren’t sharks out here.”
“I see Cowboy Axel must have retired.” Nick grinned at me as we passed them, his free hand loosely wrapped around the one of mine that had a death grip on his bicep. Was he flexing?
He wastotallyflexing. I smiled back. “Yeah, thank goodness. I think Kat was ready to ‘little dogie’ him all the way back to California.”
“You think he’s growing on your dad?”
“Like a fungus, maybe.” I snorted. “Poor Axel. I think hereally likes my sister, but my family can be a hard sell sometimes.” I dared to take my eyes off the ice long enough to glance up at Nick. “Though not with you. They really like you.”
He nodded, though the confirmation didn’t seem to make him as happy as I expected.
“Do you think there’s any reason to tell my family anything about us?” I tightened my grip on his arm as we skated over a bump in the ice. “You know—the new status?”
Nick shook his head. “They thought we were dating, and now we really are.” He shrugged. “The details along the way aren’t important, right?”
“Right.” I frowned, not sure why that answer wasn’t the one I wanted to hear. He was right. It didn’t matter, really.
Nick guided me around a kid in a blue snowsuit who was struggling to get back up on his skates. “Plus, I don’t want to throw Ryan under the bus with the whole story, you know?”
“True.” I huffed. “Though I still don’t think he’s suffered enough for his meddling.”
