Page 33 of Christmas Criminal

"Do you have a picture? Mom said he looks like Henry Cavill with glasses."

I blink. "That's not inaccurate."

She sticks her tongue out, panting at me. "Oh, we aresogoing to the fair this weekend."

"What? No. Don't you want to do normal weekend things? Claw your eyes out with rusty hooks?"

"More like get wine drunk with you and listen to you complain about how you hate Christmas while I make you your special extra dark chocolate-covered berries that you devour with a scowl on your face."

I rear back. "That happened once."

"It happens every year, Noelle."

I glare at her. "You can't even walk."

She waves me off. "I'll bring my scooter, I'll be fine. I want to look at the hot math teacher who looks like Superman. And I want to go to the Christmas fair! Maybe I'll let you buy me a hot chocolate and we can take bets on when Hank's going to finally ask Mom out."

"Ugh. Mom can do better. You realize he was the one who gave me community service, right?"

Christina nods, raising her eyebrows like I'm missing something. "Um, yeah. Because he has a gigantic crush on Mom."

"So why wouldn't he let me off?"

"Because, Noelle, literallynobodywants you throwing eggs at Dad's house. Even Mom."

I take a sip of wine and cross my arms. "I don't regret it."

She leans forward and pats my arm. "And this is why you're the wildcard of the family."

When I headinto the high school the next day, the very first thing I notice is the T-shirt Nick is wearing.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," I say, and his head snaps up, his eyes meeting mine above his book.

He grins. "We're in school, Noelle."

"Tell me you didn't buy that shirt for me."

He closes his book, coming to his feet in front of me and throwing it on the desk. "I did not, in fact, buy this shirt for you." He tugs on it, straightening out theI heart mathacross his chest. "It might surprise you to know that other people in the world also assume that math teachers love math, believe it or not."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to decipher whether he's screwing with me or not. "I guess the better question is, how manyI heart mathT-shirts do you own?"

He crinkles his nose, his grin widening. "More than I'm willing to admit."

"Oh my god, I bet you have an entire closet dedicated toI heart mathshirts."

He shrugs. "None that I bought myself. But yes, more than enough to keep me clothed for the rest of my life."

"Pity," I say, and then catch myself. He blinks, and I start talking too fast to cover up my slip. "That's kind of adorable in a really nerdy way."

God, that's not much better.

He bites his lip. "Well, if you like them so much maybe I'll give you one as a present once you're done with your community service."

"And there I go thinking I'd get one of those T-shirts that says like, 'I went all the way to Snow Falls and all I got was debilitating high school trauma.'"

He pauses before he speaks. "I don't think you need a T-shirt to tell people that."

My jaw drops. "Saint Nick, are you busting my balls right now?"

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