But then I didn’t know what to say. And neither did he by the way we were both just standing and looking at each other. Normally I wouldn’t be able to function around someone who looked like him, but luckily my brain was otherwise engaged trying to stop thinking about thinking about Woody.

“Elle told me to tell you the hot chocolate here should not be missed.”

Oh, I see. She’d sent him. Designated babysitter. That made sense. Still, it would be rude to say no after he’d made the effort to come.

“You know it’s a Christmas rule of mine to never turn down a festive hot drink?”

Nick grinned. “I did not know that, no.”

I fished out my notebook. “Yup, alongside never leave Mariah hanging. It’s all in here.” I couldn’t tell if he looked alarmed or impressed as I flicked through.

“Holly’s Book of the Best Christmas Ever?” He raised one eyebrow. “No pressure, huh?”

Oh—I hadn’t meant him to take it that way. “No. Honestly no.” I opened the front page. “I’ve already planned it all out.”

I handed it to him, so he could see. It meant he could back me up when I told Elle I wasn’t sure I had time for any more plans. He scanned the list. “You sure have. All hundred things…”

“A hundred and twenty-seven.”

He whistled as he read down. “‘Go into a 7-Eleven (they might have Twinkies?). Watch a Christmas film and get popcorn, soda and best-named snack… Ask for the check, please, and keep a straight face.’ You haven’t left anything out, have you?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “You can’t leave something like this to chance, right…?”

But judging by his face as he read points sixty to seventy-three, I wasn’t 100 percent sure he agreed.

“And what’s this?” Oh no. No, no no?! I grabbed my book back. He’d seen the back page—the page that only I was ever meant to see. “‘Flights, not feelings?’”

So this is what dying inside felt like. I did NOT want him or his perfect sister to know what a dweeb I was.

“Don’t ask.” Why had I been such an idiot?! “So, are we getting these drinks or what?”

We headed back to the stall I’d just come from, and I tried not to make eye contact with the person serving, whom I’d only ordered from six minutes ago. When they said, “Back again, huh?” I pretended I’d dropped my mitten in the snow and disappeared to look for it. I only dared to sip it when we were around the corner.

“I cannot get enough of this…” It was soooo good.

“I owe you a thanks, by the way.” Nick took a sip. “For those cookies. Tasted delicious—looked…”