Approximately Yours (North Pole, Minnesota #3)(44)

Holly eyed him for a second. “You’re full of shit.”

“Guilty.”

She grinned at Danny, pulling her lip into a sly, crooked smile that was way more than cute.

…

“I mean, it’s terrible. Infuriating. You have to see it to believe it.” Holly leaned back to assess her work. Her showstopper was nearly finished, and she was confident that she had never made anything more beautiful in her life.

Danny was working at a card table a few feet away. After they’d gone shopping, he had Brian wheel over his showstopper on an old wagon so he and Holly could keep each other company while working on their showstoppers. It had been his idea. What was she supposed to tell him? No? She made up some garbage story that Elda had asked her to work on the marzipan figures of their family members. It wasn’t a bad lie. Holly was a sculptor after all.

Danny had been trying to force this renewed friendship all day, and Holly had to admit it was kind of working. She liked spending time with him, talking to him, and she was doing a bang-up job of ignoring her more intense feelings for him.

“Of all the things to be angry about in the world, this seems kind of small potatoes,” he said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Holly added a bit more royal icing to the railing along the front steps. “Maybe I’m so focused on it because I should be pissed about a trillion other, more important things in this messed up world, but the terrible makeup on Riverdale is something tangible I can really wrap my head around.”

“Okay, I can respect that.” Danny smiled at her.

“What about you?” Holly touched her cheek, which was at least five degrees warmer than her hands right now. “What makes you angry?”

Danny leaned back in his chair, surveying his handiwork. His basketball court was definitely coming along. It was super detailed and about the size of large microwave. His idea to shellac the floor with some kind of sugar/gelatin concoction was genius. “You want to know what really gets my goat? Christian Laettner hate.”

“What?” Holly laughed. “And also, who?”

Danny gawked at her and dropped one of his jelly-bean spectators to the floor. “You don’t know who Christian Laettner is?”

Holly shook her head. “Should I?”

“He’s, like, one of the best college basketball players of all time. Full stop.”

“Cool. Where does he go to school?”

“Oh my God.” Danny buried his face in his hands.

“What?” Holly shrugged.

He looked up. His hands had messed up his usually perfect hair, which was definitely adorable, no matter how hard Holly tried not to notice. “He was in college, like thirty years ago. He played for Duke. Everybody thought he was this rich kid, spoiled baby, but it was all based on assumptions, because, well, he looked like a rich kid, spoiled baby.” He pointed a candy cane at Holly. “Before you leave town, we’re watching the ‘I Hate Christian Laettner’ 30 for 30.”

“You just said a bunch of words that make no sense.” Though she definitely heard the part where he mentioned wanting to watch something together.

“Trust me.”

“Okay.” Grinning like a dork, she focused again on her gingerbread concoction.

“You’re seriously not bad.” Danny nodded toward her replica of Grandma’s house. “I know Elda’s the brains behind the operation, but you’ve got skills, too.”

Holly had been avoiding saying Elda’s name all day, but now it was out in the open. “She taught me everything I know.”

“Well, then you’re a fast learner.” Danny pulled himself up from his chair and hopped over to the table where they kept all the extra candy. He was quiet over there, and it took all her will power to keep from looking at him. Holly pulled a bit of marzipan off a block and started molding it into a soft, sticky sphere. This would be her dad’s head. She had only four family members to go. “I’d better be careful making my Aunt Vixi,” she said. “I’ll be in for a world of hurt if my sculpture of her ends up unflattering.”

She glanced up, because Danny didn’t say anything. He was no longer hunting for the perfect piece of candy. Now he was flipping through a book—Holly’s sketch pad.

Shit. She couldn’t let him see her most recent sketches.

Her legs immediately tried to push her up, but she stopped herself. He didn’t know the book was hers. He’d think it was Elda’s, and it would continue the narrative that Elda was the perfect girl for him. If he saw the pictures and knew Holly had made them, he’d book it out of here faster than Elda had ditched them at Santabucks that morning.

“Did you see these drawings?”

Holly shook her head. A ball had formed in her throat, blocking her ability to form words.

Danny tucked the book under one armpit and jumped over to her. He dropped the book in front of Holly and rested his hands on the table next to her.

She kept rolling little marzipan balls. It was all she could do.

Resting one hand on the table for balance, he flipped through the pages. There was a sketch of young Danny at one of the gingerbread contests. And a few more of Danny now. He stopped on one Holly’d made a few days ago, one of him working hard piping icing on his gingerbread figures.

“Wow,” Holly said, “so she’s been drawing pictures of you. Is that…creepy?” She couldn’t read Danny’s expression, but of course he wouldn’t think it was creepy. He liked Elda. They’d been on a date, and Elda thinking about him like that was totally legit.