Page 102 of Burn for You

Huh, cute.

Nora goes next. Everyone oohs and ahhs when she mentions the studio they’re currently sitting in is hers.

The introductions go around the circle until they reach Rafael. He and Caio are the only men here, so all eyes are on him when he speaks.

“Uh,ciao, I’m Rafael. I’m just here because my girlfriend wanted to add some mugs to her collection.” My eyes widen as I look over at him.Girlfriend? Since when?

Vanessa and Nora start whispering between themselves.

Oh good god.

I clear my throat. “I’m May, and I’m here because myboyfriendwanted to reenact Swayze’s moment in Ghost. He’s a big fan. Rewatches Dirty Dancingevery Sunday, don’t you, ragamuffin?”

Isla snorts from her spot across from me.

I have no idea where ragamuffin came from but it’s too late now. It feels just as silly to call the thirty-four-year-old man beside me my boyfriend, but that’s what we’re going with, apparently.

Rafael just smirks over at me, his lip twitching like he’s trying not to laugh. But I think he and I both know we are already walking a fine line with our instructor, so he holds it in.

After an hourand a half at the wheel, I’ve got the vague shape of a kangaroo mug sitting in my hands.

I’m actually proud of myself. I thought I’d be leaving with a barely recognizable blob. Or worse, a plain mug. But I’m here, adding a beige, kangaroo-colored glaze to my mug before I send it away with our instructor for her to fire before she’ll send the finished product back to us.

I look over at Rafael beside me and he’s painting a red glaze over his strawberry mug. It actually looks really good. Maybe he should’ve gone all Patrick Swayze on me.

He catches me staring at his work and smirks over at me. “Jealous?”

I scoff, bringing my gaze back to my kangaroo. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because my strawberry is cooler than your kangaroo.”

“Your strawberry isnotcooler than my kangaroo.”

“Vanessa,” he catches her attention from where she’s glazing her cake stands. They turned out pretty well. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t really a beginner at this whole thing. “What’s better? The kangaroo,” he gestures to my mug and I lift it up to show it off, “or the strawberry?”

She makes a show of really thinking hard about it, but then her eyes flick to mine. It’s only for a second, only a glimpse, but in that glimpse, I see sympathy.

“No,” I say, aware that she’s about to screw me over.

“I like the strawberry,” she says with a wince.

“How?!” I demand. Rafael just chuckles from beside me like the smug bastard that he is.

“The kangaroo is so much more original! What’s a strawberry compared to a kangaroo?”

Her eyes crinkle at the edges. “His legs are kinda wonky.”

My mouth hangs open, and I pick the kangaroo up. “She’sa girl,” I mutter. “And her legs are fine.”

“Aw.” Rafael reaches a hand out to me, but I bat it away.

“For the record, I like the kangaroo,” Isla says.

“Thank you! See, someone with good taste.”

“Okay, if everyone could bring their pieces up to the front,” the instructor asks, interrupting my meltdown.

“Yeah, take your perfect little strawberry and piss off,” I say.

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