Page 9 of My December Darling

“Tell me about it. Did I mention my mom is your biggest hype woman?”

I hide my wince. At first, it was nice to be acknowledged by Mrs. Martinez, but there is such a thing as killing someone with kindness, and I’m practically suffocating from hers.

I rub the back of my neck. “I assumed she was a fan of mine.”

“Have you met someone who isn’t?”

Yeah. You.

I wasn’t born in Lake Wisteria, but I’ve lived here for the last year, so I’ve heard quite a bit about Catalina’s…personality. I’m not put off by it in the slightest though.

If anything, I find her constantly pushing people away to be entertaining, given who her mother and sister are.

She interrupts my thoughts by asking, “Which button do I press?”

“Bottom left.”

She tries again, but it doesn’t work.

“Here. Let me try.” I bang against the side of the machine, earning an amused huff from her.

“What?” I look down and find hersmiling. It’s small, but my heart trips over itself for a moment.

She shakes her head. “Men.”

“That’s a sexist statement. Perhaps I should report you to HR for inappropriate workplace behavior.”

“I’m sure they’ll recognize your name when I place a complaint about you for checking out my ass.”

“I… You…”

Her head tilts.

“How did you even see me?” My question comes out as a hiss.

“I couldfeelit.”

“Hm.” I cross my arms, earning a quick look from her that leaves her cheeks a bit flushed.

She clears her throat and returns her attention to the machine. “I was just pointing out that your first solution was to bang on the machine, so you’re not doing your gender any favors here.”

Oh.

The machine’s menu screen glitches before prompting to pay again, earning a curse from Catalina. “It stole my money.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.” I’ve struggled with the same issue on a few occasions, which maintenance has yet to fix as well.

Before Catalina has a chance to tap her card against the machine, I pull mine out.

“What are you doing?” She reaches for my arm. Her fingers graze my bicep, sending a lick of heat over my skin.

The machine reads my chip with a beep.

“No!” Her nails dig into my skin.

“Should I addunsolicited gropingto your report?”

She lets me go in a rush before glaring.

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