A Holly Jolly Christmas: A Second Chance Lesbian Romance, page 13
“I’m not sure. Are they from that show on the telly?”
As though they were listening in, the presenters announced the mix of performers, ranging from Olympic medal winners to ice-dancing show finalists, and even ice and circus acrobats. Mr Simon did good. It was an amazing line-up. My worries and thoughts melted away as the show began with a choreographed dance routine. I was mesmerised.
“Do you fancy a go on the ice afterwards?” I asked Vicky after a few rounds of performances. “They open the rink to the public and we can rent skates.”
“You sure you’re up to it? Won’t you injure yourself again?”
“That was the horse’s fault, not mine.”
She laughed. “Okay, sure.” She bumped my shoulder with hers, and heat flushed through my veins.
The skaters completed their routines, wearing beautiful, sparkly outfits as the lights followed them over the ice. Suddenly a rumbling sound drew my head upwards. Thick clouds had rolled over the darkened sky, and the first white snowflakes drifted down, glittering in the spotlights like falling diamonds. The skaters were unbothered by the snow and continued their routines with elegance and poise.
“It looks even more magical like this,” Vicky commented, tipping her head up to the sky.
I couldn’t help but agree. It felt like years since I’d seen real snow, and though we hadn’t had any in time for Christmas, it was a special moment.
Flakes caught in Vicky’s long lashes, and she brushed them out of her hair.
And then the heavens really opened. The slight flurry was multiplied by hundreds of flurries, colouring the sky a foggy white. Visibility dropped, and then one of the skaters caught an edge and fell on the ice with a smack. A collective gasp rolled through the crowd.
The music continued to play through the speakers, but the crowd grew restless as we waited for direction. Snow piled on the ground beneath us, bringing with it a familiar chill.
“What’s going on?” I asked, squinting and trying to see through the fog. “I can’t see anything.”
The people in front of us stood up, the murmurs throughout the rink increasing in volume.
Then an announcement ripped through the speakers. “Attention, everyone. Due to the unforeseen weather circumstances, the rest of this performance is cancelled effective immediately. Please make your way to the exits, and have a safe journey home.”
“What? Are they really cancelling? It’s only a little bit of snow.” I glanced around at the people already leaving their seats. “It’ll stop in a bit, it always does.”
“It’s more than a bit of snow, Hol, and I don’t want to get caught out in a blizzard. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Disappointment engulfed me. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. I wanted to learn more about Tanya, get to spend time with Vicky, prove to myself I could do this. I wanted us to enjoy the magic of the ice fair, to skate and maybe even hold hands as we glided around the rink. But the night was over before it had really begun.
Then Vicky grabbed my hand, and sparks ignited at her touch. She pulled me from my seat and started towards the stairs. “I have a feeling it’s going to get a little crazy out here. Stay close to me.”
I hated the way my body reacted to her; it made it seriously hard to think straight. She weaved through the people all heading for the exits as the snow blanketed us, our hands staying entwined. A surge of people pushed forward, and our grip broke as we left through the doors.
“Vicky!” I scanned the crowd, but struggled to see through the falling snowflakes and panicked fans leaving the rink. “Vicky!”
I had to find her. At the rate of the falling snow, I doubt she’d be able to recognise my car, and she’d never be able to walk back to Mistleberry in this weather. It was miles away. I was pushed out through the doors and back into the field outside. The fairy lights cast a golden glow over the snow but didn’t help visibility.
Then someone grabbed me.
I spun to find Vicky looking back at me, eyes wide and panicked.
“I told you to stay close to me,” she said, her breath coming out in wisps.
“I did, but—”
“Come on, let’s get to your car before it gets any worse.” She interlinked her fingers in mine, and we hurried back past the stalls all the way to the car park. When people pushed and shoved us, I pulled Vicky close to me, squishing our bodies together, and breathed her in. The night wasn’t going too badly after all.
The car park was chaos. Cars were spinning in all directions, kicking up snow everywhere. The ground was completely covered. Worse, the cold was seeping into my coat, making me shiver.
“Fuck.” Vicky sighed, turning to me. “Your car isn’t going to get out of here, is it?”
“I d—d—doubt it.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Your coat isn’t waterproof, either?”
I shook my head.
Vicky tutted. “Honestly, Holly, you leave the countryside for two minutes and forget what the weather can get like here.” She glanced around her, taking in all the commotion. Her eyes lit up. “Let’s go. I know a place.”
“But my car—”
She squeezed my hand before tucking both hers and mine into her warm coat pocket. “It’s not far, we don’t need your car. But we’ve got to move fast.”
“No ‘I told you so’?”
“Oh, the ‘I told you so’ is definitely implied. We’ll discuss that later.” She grinned and led me into the swirling blizzard, anchored by the weight of her warm hand in mine.
Twenty-Three
The snow continued to fall all around us, the wind blowing it sideways like tiny missiles into our faces. I tried to shield myself from the cold, but my favourite coat wasn’t doing the most stellar job.
Vicky led the way down the street as cars attempting to leave the site spun their wheels, sliding all over the roads. There was no way people were going to be getting out of here that way; the tarmac was completely covered. It was typical of England not to be prepared for the snowfall, especially in the countryside. Some things never changed.
“Where are we going?” I asked, shielding my face inside my coat. “Please don’t tell me we’re walking all the way back to Mistleberry?”
“In these shoes? Not a chance.”
I noticed other people heading the same way as us. “So where?”
“There’s a new hotel down here. We should be able to get a room for the night.”
“That’s your big plan?” I hated to admit that the idea of sharing a room with Vicky flooded my belly with excitement. “How do you know so much about Donnington?”
As soon as the question left my lips, I realised the answer, but Vicky took a few seconds to reply. “Tanya’s family owns the hotel. I’m sure we can sort something out.”
The excitement in my stomach soured. But at the rate the snow was falling, I didn’t see another option. “You sure there’s not anywhere else?” I joked.
“Not anywhere where we might be able to pull a favour. Unless you want to walk around in this all night?” She tugged me left down a side street, where the Bellchester Hotel stood proud in all its glory, a white stone building declaring its presence with a bright sign above its shiny, red door. We pushed it open, finding immediate relief from the hot air blowing out above the entrance.
“Goodness. Are you two ladies alright?” a blonde receptionist asked, pulling her dark eyebrows together.
Vicky put her bag on the desk, casting snow everywhere. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” The receptionist picked up a cloth from inside a drawer and swiped it across the top. The crow’s feet around her eyes deepened, suggesting she wanted to dust off the two of us as well. “Have you got a reservation?”
“We haven’t, but—”
“I’m sorry. We’re fully booked tonight with the Donnington Ice Fair.” She pursed her lips, the pink lipstick cracking. I glanced at her nametag: Jane.
“I understand. That’s where we’ve just come from, but they’ve cancelled the show early because of the weather.”
Jane frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do.”
As the snow on my coat melted, it seeped further into my skin, making me shiver. I moved back towards the door and stood under the heating. I could just make out their conversation under the soft buzz of the air system.
“I’m sure my girlfriend could sort something out,” Vicky said, leaning forward.
The receptionist looked over Vicky’s shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow. “I sincerely doubt it.”
Excuse me?
I looked down at my sodden shoes, legs and coat. My hair was probably in a state of disarray, and though this coat was one of the most expensive things I owned, even that looked like I’d found it in a skip at this point. Okay, fair enough.
“Tanya Jones?” Vicky continued. “If I call my girlfriend and tell her I’m waiting at the Bellchester with Jane, do you think she could find me a room?”
“Miss Jones?” Jane glanced at me again, but with confusion this time. “But this isn’t Miss Jones.”
Excuse me, “this”? Who is she calling “this”?
If I’d had the energy, I would have stormed over and given her a piece of my mind. But the hot air was amazing, and I couldn’t do anything other than stand under its magical glow.
“That’s my friend. I’m talking about my girlfriend, Tanya Jones. Shall I call her?”
Jane’s eyes widened so much a vein snaked across her forehead, threatening to burst. “Er, no, no. Let me just have a check for you. We usually have something saved in case one of the Joneses is in town.” She typed on her keyboard, her eyes flashing across the screen. “I will have to confirm some details first, though, with the family.”
“No problem.” Vicky turned back to me and smiled, giving me a thumbs up.
I returned the gesture, but my mind struggled to comprehend what I’d just witnessed. The Joneses had trees reserved, rooms too. What else was strictly their space in my own town? Tanya was even buying an apartment in London, my second home. I was suddenly hyper-aware of Tanya. Everything I saw around me belonged to her. Even the air at this point. I felt very out of place.
After the check was complete, the keys had been handed over, and Jane had apologised fifty-six times for our inconvenience, we made our way down the corridor to the lift, feet squelching as we went.
“That must be a useful trick to pull,” I commented, as Vicky pressed the button. “Name-dropping your girlfriend.”
The lift doors opened, and we stepped inside. She pressed the third floor, the highest in the boutique hotel.
“It was interesting to see you behave like that,” I continued, the mirror in the lift reflecting my discomfort. “Like you’re entitled to something because of your connections.”
“I think that’s a bit uncalled for.” Vicky pressed her lips together before continuing with a huff. “What would you suggest we do? Stay out in your BMW and freeze to death? If we’d taken my car, we’d probably be fine, but now we’re snowed in.”
“I could’ve called my dad.”
She turned to me. “You’d want to risk him driving in the blizzard?” The doors chimed and opened, and we stepped out into the hallway. It still smelled of fresh paint.
“No, but—”
“You’re so stubborn, Holly. And you act like you’re so different from Tanya, but you’re more similar than you think.”
That angered me. “The only thing alike about us is we’re both from the city, a place you claim to hate so much. You’ve teased me about it all week, but it can’t be that bad if you’re considering moving there.”
She stopped outside a door that read 307 and flashed the card in front of the reader. It clicked, flashed green, and she pushed the door open.
“I’m not talking about that; I don’t know what I’m doing yet. I mean the clothes you wear. The jealousy. That damn stubbornness.”
I followed her into a beautiful red and gold hotel room. A large double bed, with crisp white bedsheets, took up the centre. Two wooden dressers and two wardrobes lined the walls, and a huge green plant nestled in the corner. All I saw was Tanya. Anger bubbled in my gut. I tore my focus away from the painting hanging over the bed and faced Vicky, but her back was to me. “Jealousy?”
“Yes. Jealousy.”
“Well, that’s one way to throw my feelings for you back in my face.”
Vicky’s shoulders sunk, but she didn’t turn around.
The anger spread into my chest. “And you’re one to talk about jealousy, Vicky. What about Billy? What about prom night?”
She faced me, her eyes narrowing. “That’s different and you know it.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Why is it? It’s the same situation from where I’m standing. If anything, this is worse.”
“Worse?” she said, on the exhale. “What, because we were younger then? You don’t think it hurts as much? I cried myself to sleep for weeks after prom. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to look at you in the same way ever again.”
My heart plummeted. “Vicky—”
“You broke my heart when you chose him.” There was an uncomfortable silence between us. The sadness in Vicky’s eyes twisted my stomach.
“I broke my own heart too.” Tears pricked my eyelids, and I swallowed. “I was scared. Terrified of my feelings for you. I still am. The way I feel about you makes me feel certifiably insane sometimes.” I shivered, chills creeping up my spine. Part of me didn’t care, didn’t even feel the cold; the ache in my chest consumed most of my brain power. “I used to be scared of who I was, but I’m not any more. I’m not scared of those feelings for you. Even when I don’t want to feel them, they’re there, Vicky. I can’t ever turn those off. I’m trying to be your friend. I’m trying. I am—”
The tears fell, sliding down my cheeks, and I turned away from her.
“I know you’re trying, Hol. I can see that.”
I glanced back. Vicky’s eyes were glossed over.
It was a few moments before she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “But how can I trust you? That you won’t break my heart?”
My heart raced, thumping so hard inside my chest I thought I might be sick. “I don’t know,” I said quietly. If she didn’t trust me, couldn’t see I was laying my heart out for her on a silver platter, I didn’t know what to say. “Maybe that’s all we’ll do. Break each other’s hearts. I’m not sure we can even help it.” I brushed my tear-stained cheeks on the sleeve of my coat, but it was soaking wet and freezing cold.
“You should shower,” she said lifelessly. “There are robes in the wardrobe. I’ll get someone to dry our clothes.”
“Okay.”
I opened the door to the bathroom and peeled my coat down my sodden arms. Another violent shiver ripped up my spine. I was afraid to let the cold in, afraid of what it might do to all my progress.
My mind blurred. How had we got to this moment? Just a few hours ago, we were laughing and having a good time. Now I couldn’t see any way out of this mess—and we were stuck in the same room together for the night.
Just great.
I shut the bathroom door and let the hot shower scald my skin, trying to feel anything other than the black hole expanding inside my heart.
Twenty-Four
Vicky and I hadn’t spoken since I came out of the shower. I lay on one side of the bed in my white towel bathrobe, listening to the sounds of Vicky in the bathroom. I considered what I’d do if we were both single. It only took me two seconds to know I’d walk in there and tell her I didn’t want to keep fighting. I’d tell her that my feelings for her were real, that there was nothing else I was more sure about. I’d press her up against the wall and kiss her, let the water wash any further trepidation away.
But it was torture to replay such daydreams. If Vicky only wanted to be friends, I had to let it go. I had to squash those feelings down. I just didn’t know if I could do it any more.
The water stopped.
My heart thudded in my chest as footsteps pattered across the floor. The door opened, and Vicky stepped out, blonde hair wet and swept back, an identical white robe to mine wrapped around her perfect body. I couldn’t look away, but I probably should have, judging by the look on her face.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to stare?” she said dryly, waiting beside the bed with one hand on her hip.
My emotions swirled as I took her in. “You’re so very beautiful, you know.”
Vicky’s demeanour softened, her arms dropping to her sides. She climbed onto the bed next to me, keeping a sizeable distance between us. “You are too, Holly. I’ve always thought that.”
I sighed, pulling my gaze away from her legs and trying to focus on a place that was safer. I settled on her neck, but a memory jumped into my mind: us kissing under her duvet when we were teenagers. Our hands exploring and tongues tracing over skin. Heat flared in my core, and I looked away. Her neck was definitely not a safe place.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just remembering something.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t do that.”
I looked back at her. Her blue eyes were enchanting under the warm light. She was so much the Vicky I knew before. Same bone structure and freckles, a cute little nose that scrunched whenever she really laughed. The same eyes that made me question everything about myself. The same mouth that had kissed me and shown me everything I’d been missing.
But she was different too. More sure of herself. Confident. Qualities that suited her, but in ways that made me feel obsolete. If Vicky didn’t need me, what was my purpose? If she didn’t trust me, could we even be friends?
“Remember your dad’s birthday?” I asked. “When we went to the cinema to watch that weird karate film?”
“Yeah. What about it?” I waited for the realisation to roll across her face. “Oh.” Her attention dropped to my mouth before bouncing back up to meet my eyes.
