That was the first time Holly understood that just dreaming about something didn’t make it so. Her imagination sustained her. Trying to reach beyond that had always, predictably, ended in disappointment.
Holly was going to be in North Pole for a little over a week. She could dump all her feelings on Danny and face rejection, or she could hang back, be cool, and let their friendship continue to bloom. In one scenario, she’d get to see Danny, to joke with him and work on their gingerbread showstoppers together. In the other, she’d ruin everything and scare him away.
Friendship was safe and predictable. She understood the rules. The sweet agony she felt every time she was in the room with him was familiar to her. That she could live with.
Holly glanced down the row. Danny and Elda were chatting, completely engrossed in what the other was saying. Holly focused on the ice. She’d pushed them back together. Good. That’s the way it was supposed to be, never mind the lump growing in her throat right now.
Sam, Tinka, and Craig had taken the row behind them. Sam’s little sister, Maddie, was actually living Holly’s childhood dream of figure skating stardom. She was only nine years old but could do these amazing spins and jumps that Holly could barely do, even on solid ground.
“She practices every day,” Sam said. “She gets up at five in the morning to come here before school, then a few hours after school, too. My dad’s constantly driving her to competitions all over the place.”
Holly watched as Maddie twirled like a top in the center of the ice before abruptly stopping and raising an arm with a flourish. Her chest heaved as she gazed up at the ceiling with a content smile. Then she bowed to the judges and waved to her brother before skating off to the side as the lights caught every sequin on her short purple dress.
Maybe that was a big part of the reason Holly had always wanted to be a figure skater—the shiny clothes. She was such a magpie.
After the awards had been handed out and Maddie had won first place in the youth group, Holly dashed alone out into the lobby and tossed her unused skates up on the counter. She’d get out of here fast, go home, and finish her showstopper for tomorrow. Her foot tapped on the floor as she waited for her shoes.
Danny came through the door, still talking to Elda. Holly averted her eyes. God, these two certainly had enough to say to each other tonight.
“Hey, Garland,” some guy shouted. His voice boomed so loud that everyone turned to look. The guy was pointing all the way across the room to the ceiling above Danny’s head. “You’re under the mistletoe.”
An entire scenario flew through Holly’s imagination in a split second. She pictured doing the bold thing, the thing she’d only ever do in her head, marching all the way across the room and kissing him right in front of everyone. Her mini-daydream ended with a “happily ever after,” because that’s how daydreams were supposed to end.
“Someone kiss Danny already,” the same guy announced to the crowd.
Danny’s eyes met Holly’s over at the skate return. That really happened. Some dude said the word “kiss” and Danny had looked at Holly. Her heart sped up, excited, wanting to believe this was real, that her dream was actually coming true.
But then Danny frowned. He winced. It was a look Holly knew well, one she was used to seeing.
That was the danger of dreaming. It was just a way to escape reality until it came full force and slammed the unsuspecting dreamer into a wall. The reality was that Danny would push her away if she tried to kiss him. He’d reject her, possibly even laugh at her, in public, and she’d be subjected to yet another version of “I’m not that into you.” She couldn’t handle hearing that right now, not from Danny, especially not after the great day they’d had together. She was saying good-bye to so many important, wonderful things in her life right now, and a rejection from Danny would kill every other joyful memory she’d ever had of North Pole.
“Kiss him, Elda,” someone else yelled.
Elda leaned toward Danny, and Holly ducked her head, shielding her eyes, allowing herself to disappear into the crowd as she made her way toward the door. This was perfect. Her two favorite people in North Pole were finally getting together. It was what she’d wanted all along. She repeated that over and over in her head, drowning out the voices of people cheering Danny and Elda on.
Chapter Sixteen
Stupid mistletoe. Stupid Christmas. Stupid North Pole.
Danny had spent most of this holiday season being annoyed by tourists and carolers and the froofy drinks he had to make at Santabucks, but he’d forgotten about the mistletoe, probably because, in the past, it had never been an issue. He’d always had someone to kiss. There was no question.
But tonight he’d found himself under the dreaded mistletoe, and his heart had pounded from nerves and excitement. He no longer had a girlfriend. He was a single guy standing under this blasted plant. And there was definitely someone he wanted to kiss.
And it wasn’t the girl standing next to him.
His glance had snapped to Holly automatically, and Danny’s thumb had gone to the tip of his forefinger, which had touched Holly’s cheek before, a few days ago, during the second round of the gingerbread contest. He hadn’t forgotten about it. When they’d made skin-to-skin contact, his nerves had lit up like the Griswalds’ house. The two of them might cause a town-wide power outage if their lips touched.
But Danny had conveniently forgotten to consider the other person in this scenario. Elda was the one he was supposed to be with. She was the one her grandma had urged him toward and who had drawn pictures of him in her notebook. She’d remembered for eight years that his favorite candy bar was a Take 5. She liked him. Holly did not. Holly had cut him off when he was about to ask her out, and she’d made sure he and Elda sat together tonight.
And, you know what? Talking to Elda tonight was easier. It was better. He knew what to expect from Elda now, and he’d stopped waiting for the girl from their text messages to show up. He was starting to appreciate her for her.
He should kiss Elda.
Holly was the one who’d told him to stop thinking and just go for it. That was what he should do.
And then someone shouted, “Kiss him, Elda!”
This was the moment of truth. Danny gazed into Elda’s big brown eyes and leaned toward her. He hadn’t kissed anyone since Star. Heck, he hadn’t kissed anyone before Star. This was a big moment. He prepared himself to remember it.
Elda, however, sideswiped his cheek and whispered, “You don’t want to kiss me.”
The crowd groaned with disappointment over the non-kiss for a split second before resuming whatever they were doing—drinking eggnog, returning skates, taking selfies with the life-size cardboard cutout of North Pole native and professional hockey player, Stan Stashiuk.
“Yes, I do.” Danny was trying to grab the bull by the horns here. He and Elda were supposed to be together.
She caressed his cheek. Nothing. No sparks. Not a one. “No, you don’t.”