Chapter 23 #2
“Obviously I never could have predicted all these operations you came up with.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “But I’m telling you the truth. Nick’s exact words to me were, ‘Ever since Holly stopped attacking me with Christmas, I’ve enjoyed getting to know her. I like her.’?”
I stilled. My heart jerked with an extra beat. “He said that?”
“Yes. He also said you would never believe him after all the operations.”
He was right. I wouldn’t have.
I hadn’t.
“He just wanted to keep things going. Keep being with you. That’s why he didn’t want me to let on that I knew.” Ryan let go of my shoulders and stepped back. “Ironically, he was trying to keep you from getting hurt.”
My mind whirled and I released a huff of air, afraid to believe. Afraid to hope for such a gift after everything I’d put everyone through. I struggled to take a deep breath. “But…he left.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Ryan crossed his arms over his chest.
I winced and slowly nodded. “Yeah. Probably even sooner.”
“Exactly.”
We stared at each other. A dozen thoughts flew through my head like Santa’s reindeer. Would Ryan lie about this? No. Could I have been wrong about all of it? Yes. Was it possible Nick really was the guy I thought—and hoped—he was? Yes. Was it worth the risk of finding out?
Tears pricked my eyes and I hesitated, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Look, sis. I know it’s scary.” Ryan could always read my mind, way more than Olivia and her alleged sixth sense could. “All relationships are. I was scared to death when I proposed to Lydia, even though I figured she’d say yes.”
“ Figured? Are you kidding?” I scoffed. “She would have proposed to you first if she’d found the concept remotely acceptable.”
Ryan grinned. “Well, yeah. I know that now. But then, it was risky. I had to decide what would hurt worse—trying and getting rejected, or not trying and living my entire life without her.”
Oh, Ryan. That was deep.
I briefly closed my eyes, heart pounding. But he was right. I really liked Nick, and despite our complicated, rocky start, it could be the beginning of something amazing. It’d only been a week, but everything I’d felt for him had been genuine.
Was it possible it had been for him too? Could there be one more Christmas miracle for me?
“Please, call him. Talk to him.” Ryan turned me toward the porch and pushed. “And for the love of Frosty, get inside. It’s freezing out here.”
His bowl had chipped. Figured.
Nick stared at the seasoned noodles crowding his traditional bowl as the TV droned in the background.
He’d initially turned on the original animated cartoon Grinch movie, but the second Cindy Lou Who appeared on the screen, it’d proven too painful to watch.
He’d clicked over to a rerun of a basketball game on some sports channel he didn’t even realize he subscribed to.
He missed Holly.
He missed the whole Sinclair family. As he’d unpacked, started his laundry, and heated up his annual noodles, he realized he didn’t even like ramen that much. Holly had managed to shift his mindset about everything he’d formerly believed about the holidays, even his favorite soup.
He adjusted his position on the couch, full bowl in hand, and aimlessly stirred the noodles with his fork. He liked ice skating and Christmas cookies and tinsel, and by golly if he hadn’t secretly loved decorating that stupid sweater.
All because of Holly—and her family—making everything real. Chaotic. Perfectly imperfect.
But this Christmas was miserable enough without strolling down memory lane.
No longer hungry, Nick set his bowl on the end table and reached across the couch for his phone, eager for a distraction.
Oh yeah. Still dead. He’d lent his charger to Axel last night and forgotten to grab it in his hurry to leave that morning.
He could always go outside and charge his phone in his truck but…
what was the point? He didn’t want to see messages from anyone but Holly, and the odds of her leaving one at this point were super slim.
He grabbed the remote instead and turned up the volume on the game.
But the sight of the uniformed teams dribbling up and down the court only reminded him of how close he’d come to grasping his own dream.
Because of his lies and deceit, he’d let it slip through his fingers.
Sure, he could buy another property down the road, and he would. He wasn’t giving up.
But the deal with the Sinclairs would have saved him so much time and money. It was so ideal…even had its own basketball court…
“Bah humbug.” He clicked through several late-night sales channels and a few black-and-white films until Elf caught his eye. He lowered the remote. Images of Holly smirking at him, wearing a red boa while listing Buddy the Elf’s checklist of things to do, gripped his heart.
What was she doing now? Did she miss him at all? Had she even noticed he’d left?
The remote slipped from his fingers onto the cushion, and he stared numbly at the TV as the climactic scene with Santa in Central Park played out.
He frowned. Funny how he never realized how much he related to Walter—Buddy the Elf’s grumpy father—forgetting the meaning of Christmas, putting work and his own goals ahead of the people he cared about.
On the screen, everyone sang to generate Christmas spirit and help Santa’s sleigh fly. Stoic Walter only mouthed the words, refusing to sing, much to the chagrin of his family. Ha. He’d literally lived that moment, lip-syncing carols at his parents’ holiday parties.
But not at karaoke night with Holly. There, he’d been a full-out pop star. She brought out a side of him he never let loose. She made him laugh. Made him play.
His chest tightened, and he lifted the remote again.
But there, on the screen, the grumpy man finally conceded. He opened his mouth and bellowed about Santa Claus coming to town. And right in the nick of time. Shock registered on Walter’s face as Santa’s sleigh flew over his head.
Christmas was saved.
Nick tried to swallow against the knot forming in his throat. He didn’t get emotional at movies, especially not holiday movies. They were so cheesy. Corny. Predictable. So why did this one suddenly spark chills down his neck?
He leaned his head back against the cushion. Normally he’d dodge this feeling. Run from it. But something—Someone?—prompted him to stay in it for a minute.
He didn’t hate Christmas. That much was evident, and not just now, but also in hindsight. Nick had been as guilty as his parents for creating a holiday wrapped around the wrong thing.
Self.
It manifested differently with him, of course. He didn’t turn the holiday into a marketing event with the latest trends. But it’d still been about him, his feelings, his needs, his interests, and not nearly enough about the reason Christmas existed in the first place.
What was it Thomas had said that morning—a baby that came to be perfect because we couldn’t be?
Nick watched as the movie continued playing.
He really was like Walter, wasn’t he? Avoiding Christmas.
Avoiding the hard parts of relationships.
He’d tried to explain himself to Holly, but not really.
He could have let her sleep on the information he’d thrown at her.
Given her some space and tried again. But no, he’d quit and gone home. Didn’t she deserve better than that?
Didn’t they both?
Whether Holly believed him or not didn’t change the fact they’d shared something special the last nine days. Chills raced up his neck again.
Something he wasn’t ready to give up.
Nick shifted forward on the couch, heart racing.
He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and picked up his ramen bowl, now full of cold noodles.
Maybe he would try again and fail, but one thing was for sure, Holly would never know how he felt if he didn’t make a gesture to show her.
One she could believe. Something special, just for her.
Something big.
He hurried his noodles to the sink and turned on the garbage disposal, casting an impatient glance at his watch as his old tradition washed down the drain. He knew exactly what todo.
Now to find a store open on Christmas Eve to let him do it.