Page 40 of A Christmas For Holly

The tension in the room was thick and suffocating. I couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, so I stared at my book, the words blurring together, my thoughts spiraling.

“I don’t think you meant any of it, not the kiss or the threat afterward,” he whispered. When I met his gaze, there was no lie in his eyes.

I did mean the kiss! I wanted to kiss you!

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t have all this hope and support thrown at me when I didn’t deserve it. Now, the panic began, and the pain in my chest peaked. I grabbed my book and scrambled for the ladder to the bedroom loft.

“Holly?” he called, but I was mid-meltdown, and up here was the only space where I could breathe for a second, where I didn’t have to face him.

Up here, I could fall apart without having to explain myself. And God, I was close to falling apart.

Chapter 16

Lucas

“Okay, that went well,”I murmured to the empty kitchen.

Night fell quickly, between one snowflake and the next, swallowing the last bit of light as the storm raged on, and I flicked on the small lamp by the sofa. At least we were one of the lower cabins with electricity, although how long that would last in this storm, I didn’t know. I boiled water and placed it in the three thermoses I could find, then with that done, I bundled up to head out, needing to check how easy it would be to make my way down the mountain. It turned out I was stuck here tonight. The snow was deeper than I expected—a solid four-foot bank had formed between the road and the cabin, and it was still coming down hard. Ice clung to everything, and there was no way out tonight.

I stood there momentarily, the wind biting at my face, the cold seeping through my gloves as I listened to the trees crack and groan under the heavy snow. My truck wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was I. Resigned, I headed out to grab my charging bank, for what it was worth, the packet of M&Ms I kept for emergencies, the small tree, and the decorations, and then I trudged back toward the cabin in the howling wind.

Once I was back inside, I closed the door, shutting out the storm. I was frozen, so I stripped off my outer layers, headed straight for the stove, and added more logs. The flames licked at the fresh wood.

“Now what?” I wrapped myself in all the blankets I could pull off the sofa, grabbed a handful of M&Ms, and settled in for a long night of sitting in the dark. The cabin was warming up nicely, and we had plenty of wood. I’d already checked the shed to the side, and there was a small generator with emergency oil if needed, so we’d be fine for one night. Still, I set an alarm to ensure I added more wood to the stove once it burned down.

After an hour of staring, I got up and made a hot chocolate, stirring it as I sat by the fire, and my thoughts drifted. Should I check on Holly? The cabin was warm enough, and he hadn’t returned downstairs since he’d gone up. I wasn’t even sure what to say to him if I did check in.

But still, part of me couldn’t shake the worry. He’d been… off. Not the Holly I remembered. But for now, he was upstairs, the cabin was cozy, and I’d ensure the fire stayed burning through the night. We’d be okay.

And then I’d get home tomorrow and not think about PaulHollyHollister again. I left him alone, slept on and off on the sofa, waking every couple of hours to tend to the stove. The fire crackled and spit, casting a soft, flickering light across the cabin. The storm wasn’t letting up, and the snow was still piling up outside—it wasn’t very likely I’d get out of here in daylight either.

Sometime around midnight, a massive crash jolted me awake, sounding as if the roof was caving in. The explosion of noise echoed through the cabin, followed by a car alarm wailing. My heart shot into my throat, and I scrambled to my feet, crossing to the window. I couldn’t see what happened through the storm's swirling whiteness.

Behind me, I heard Holly scrambling down the stairs, cursing, unsteady. He stumbled toward me, his eyes wide and sleep clinging to him. Exhaustion etched dark smudges under his eyes, and he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, wrinkled and worn. “The alarm? My car?” he managed, his voice hoarse as he peered out the window.

I opened the window a little and swept the flashlight in front of the cabin.

“Shit,” I muttered. A part of the tree above Holly’s car had snapped clean off and smashed down onto the roof and front of the Lamborghini, crushing it under a ton of snow and wood.

His gaze fixed on the branch impaling the windshield, and the roof caved in under the weight. He yanked the keys from a small table, clicking buttons until the alarm stopped.

“Well, fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head.

I wouldn’t say I liked that car—it was flashy as hell—but even I had to admit it was a beautiful machine. Or had been. Now, it was crushed, buried in the white drifts that spiraled into the front seats, and the vanity plate was hanging by a thread.

“We should go out and cover the windshield,” I suggested, figuring we could at least stop the snow from filling the car.

Holly huffed a laugh, his eyes still locked on the wreckage. “Nah. Let it fill with snow.”

I blinked, confused. “What? You’re just gonna leave it?”

He shrugged, his expression hard, but something in his tone told me this wasn’t about the car. “Never wanted it anyway.” He stared at the ruined car a moment longer, then turned to me with a tired, almost hopeful look. “Coffee?”

I gestured at the pod machine on the counter. “Power’s been taken out. We have a generator, but we gotta save it for emergencies.”

“Coffee at midnightisan emergency,” Holly said tiredly, rubbing his hands together as he glanced around.

I pointed to the instant coffee and the three thermoses full of hot water on the counter. “Use that. I already filled them with hot water before the power went out.”

---