Page 10 of My December Darling

I tuck my card back in my wallet while the machine whirs to life. “Relax. It’s a cup of coffee. Not dinner and a movie.”

“Thank you.” She sighs as coffee starts filling the Styrofoam cup.

“Least I could do after what I said at lunch the other day.”

And just like that, her body language changes. It’s subtle, but obvious to anyone who cares enough to pay attention.

Catalina stares at the quarter-filled coffee cup, most likely willing the machine to go faster, but unfortunately, it always takes its sweet time. She even wraps her hand around the cup as if she plans on bolting the moment it lets out the final drop.

For some reason, I’m not ready for the conversation to come to an end. Now that I come to think of it, this might be the longest amount of time we’ve spent talking without her finding a way to escape the conversation, so maybe that’s why I don’t want her to run away.

“I’m sure your sister is happy you’re here,” I say to break the unbearable silence. I’m not the kind of person who enjoys them because it reminds me of too many days spent alone, wishing for someone to keep me company since my parents were too busy to do so themselves.

“Mm,” she replies, not giving me much to work with.

Little does she know, I was an only child who had three imaginary friends while growing up, so I know plenty about keeping a conversation going.

“I’m shocked to see you wearing something other than black,” I joke.

She turns to face me again, this time with a frown. She gives my outfit a bored once-over, although I catch her lingering on my arms for a little longer than necessary.

Okay. Clearly, she might dislike me as a person, but my body is a different story.

Catalina looks me in the eyes. “You’re one to talk when you’re dressed like the grim reaper.”

“There are way too many bodily fluids in an ER to be dressed in anythingbutnavy or black.”

Her lips twitch, the edges threatening to curl at the corners, but she covers it up by clamping her mouth shut.

Getting that kind of rare reaction out of her makes me wish to do it again, but before I take advantage of the opportunity, she stuns me by speaking.

“Not going to lie. You seemed like the type of guy who would wear his white coat everywhere he goes.”

“I take personal offense to that statement.”

“Good,” she replies dryly, and I swear this girl makes me want to laugh without purposefully trying to.

“For your information, I prefer to keep my dry-cleaning bills down to a minimum.”

“Is this your casual way of telling me you’re broke?”

“I prefer the termfiscally conservative.” My comment earns the best kind of laugh.

My eyes widen. “Did you just…”

“No.”

“Whoa. I didn’t think your internal software was capable of such a sound. Are you malfunctioning? Is there a 1-800 number I can call to get you help?”

She tries to glare, but it lacks the usual punch, given her eyes are sparkling with amusement. “Are you always this?—”

“Charming?”

“Annoying. Seriously, it’s like three a.m. Can you just not be like this right now?”

“Three a.m.? The night is still young then.”

“Speak for yourself.” On cue, she yawns, and damn if I don’t find the way her face scrunches up to be cute.

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