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“You prickle when someone tries to pay you a compliment, but you equally prickle when someone understates your worth. Spiky.” “Perhaps it’s only you who makes me spiky,” said Kate. Matt laughed.
“A man is like an optional extra; you should only take one on when it is beneficial to do so. It’s like refraining from the fourth plate at the all-you-can-eat curry buffet. Just because it’s there, doesn’t mean you have to have it.”
And whal abou’ you?” asked Oliver. “Why are you always the brisemaid and never the brise?” “Because I’m picky,” said Kate. “And spiky! Like a cactus!”
“He brings out your sparkle,” said Mac. “That’s not sparkle,” Kate corrected. “It’s rage-glitter.”
Snippets of Christmas music from car stereos whipped past her and Kate smiled to herself. She loved Christmas. Of
all the holidays, Christmas was the one that replenished her soul and made her feel the most hopeful.
Kate could no longer deny that she loved him. As impossible and implausible as that love might be, it was love and there was nothing to be done about it.
