“So, erm.” I pulled off my mittens with my teeth, bits of snow-frost flying across the car. “I just wanted to say sorry. And thanks. Sorrythanks.” Nick was staring out of his window, so I had no idea what his face was doing. “For the surprise.” I rubbed my hands together, trying to bring them back to life. “I can’t believe you were going to watch Elf. I mean, it’s the right decision, but still…the whole thing, I really appreciated it.”

Ruby had explained the reason he’d disappeared this morning is because he’d been out getting festive American snacks he and Ruby remembered from my list. Nick turned to me. “We don’t need to do this, Hol.”

“Well, I think we do. Because I’m sorry. For what I said. I don’t think you’re allergic to tinsel.” Dying inside at having to say that. “Or the anti-Christmas.” And that. “I’ve actually been having the best time. I don’t know why I was being such a…”

“Wet wipe?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I think I was raging you’d left your tea…”

I gave him my biggest smile, but I didn’t get one back.

He flicked his key ring. “Look, we don’t need to go over it. It’s all good.”

But it felt very far away from good. It felt like it never had before. Awkward and weird.

And I was about to make it even worse.

“There’s something else, Nick.” This was going to be awful, but I had to be honest. “I promise I didn’t mean it to happen, but…Elle knows about you seeing Dottie.”

I tried not to notice his shoulders slump. “I see.”

“Are you mad?” I twiddled with my mitten, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“What would the point of that be? We’ll never see each other again in a few days.” Yup, he hated me. Nick stuck the keys in the ignition and flicked the engine on. “Although, I did think you’d promised you’d keep it between us?”

I fully turned in my seat to look at him, but he wasn’t making any eye contact.

“I did. And I’m sorry. It really was a stupid accident. With my stupid phone.” The stereo sprang into life—“Blue Christmas” by Elvis was playing. Literally one of the saddest Christmas songs ever—even the radio hated me.

“Well, this Christmas-hating Grinch is heading home.” He put the car into gear. “Want a ride?”

I needed to clear things up. I didn’t think he was a Grinch—he just didn’t love Christmas like I did.

“We’re just different, that’s all.” I was trying to sound positive. “I like Christmas one way…and you just… Well, not everyone has to be into it, right?”