Page 22 of My December Darling

“I’m being serious. She seemed…comfortable. With you, that is.”

The thought sends a wave of warmth through me, feeding my confidence about the whole Catalina situation.

“I think she’s warming up to me,” I say with a light tone.

“Tell me about it. Just the other day you were worried about a chopstick incident, and this week you’re hanging out at the holiday event without any issues?”

“I’ve been told on a few occasions that I’m hard to resist.”

He stares at me with thinly pressed lips.

“What?”

He doesn’t speak up right away, so my nerves get the best of me as I say, “If you want to ask me something, do it before you kill me with suspense.”

On the outside, I’m calm, cool, and charming, but on the inside, my emotions are all over the place.

“I don’t know how to go about this, so I’m just going to give it to you straight and ask.”

“Okay…”

“Are you into her?”

I look at him without blinking, and he does the same before breaking eye contact first.

“Shit. I wasn’t sure if I was overthinking things, so Gaby insisted that I ask you.”

“Gaby put you up to this?”

“Yes! She kept saying things were different between you two.”

“If by different, she means her sister is no longer fantasizing about ways to escape a conversation with me, then I’d say yes. Things are progressing rather nicely between us.”

His head tilts in quiet assessment.

“If you keep looking at me like a cadaver you want to dissect, I’m going to take my pancake and go so I can eat in peace.”

His chest deflates with his sigh. “Sorry.”

I’m the one who should be sorry since I’m the one interested in his ex-girlfriend.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Now I have something to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically speaking of course, I was interested in your ex?—”

He slaps the counter before pointing an accusatory finger at me. “I knew it!”

I can’t tell whether he is mad or not. “This is strictly a hypothetical.”

His lips curl at the corners.

Nope. Not mad.

The scent of something burning fills my nose, and Aiden rushes over to the stove. With a curse, he tosses the crispy pancake in the trash before pouring more batter in the pan.

“So, you’re not angry?” I ask with slight uncertainty.

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