Page 40 of Christmas in Coconut Creek

Ophelia:Big words there from a military brat

Frankie <3:I had to adjust my game for the hot teacher I’m trying to impress

Ophelia:She’s impressed

Frankie <3:How impressed? Like, meet me on my lunch break for another go impressed?

Ophelia:Like, continue texting you despite your frat-level insistence impressed

Frankie <3:Ouch

Ophelia:You’re right, that was a little harsh

Frankie <3:No quarrel, Ms. Brody. It was grossly incompetent of me to assume something so outrageously promiscuous. I’ll see to it that I keep my egregious masculine urges to myself henceforth.

I snorted and played with the drawstring on my shorts.

Ophelia:Are you on thesaurus.com?

Frankie <3:Would it make you wet if I said yes?

Ophelia:No comment

Frankie <3:I’ll make a dirty girl out of you yet, O

I swung my legs off the bed and padded down the hall into the kitchen. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this impending infatuation toward a man. Which was as exhilarating as it was terrifying given the circumstances. I wasn’t even sure at that point if a glaring red flag tagged “will end badly” would deter the path toward Frankie. It felt as though every second I tried to stave off any involvement, the pull toward him just became more magnetic.

I flipped on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter as the grinds began to drip.

Ophelia:Does Mateo pay you to text on the job?

Frankie <3:I’m not texting, I’m testing the internet speeds

Ophelia:Slowest internet ever

Frankie <3:Part of the reason this install is gonna take the next two days

Ophelia:Ah, that must be why Nat and Mateo are having a sleepover on Friday. Two days without sex probably feels like a prison verdict

Frankie <3:First I’m hearing about it. What does that mean you’re doing?

Ophelia:Making cookies, wrapping gifts, singing Christmas music at the top of my lungs in an empty apartment

Frankie <3:Fuck that, come over with Tally

Ophelia:You don’t think that’s infringing?

Frankie <3:Last time I checked I paid half the mortgage and utilities, so whatever raw cookie dough I do or do not put in my oven is no one else’s business

The coffee came to a sputtering stop in the pot and brought my attention back to the room. Nat was idling around the kitchen with a towel around her chest, pulling two mugs from the cabinet above the sink and cream from the fridge.

“Would you care if I tagged along on Friday?”

She raised an eyebrow and then fitted me with an knowing expression as she put two and two together.

“Why, oh why would you ever want to do that, Ophelia?” she teased.

“Can we save theI told you so’sfor when they’re necessary? We’re just hanging out. You and Mateo are hanging out, Frankie invitedmeto hang out. It’s friendly.”

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