Cat smiles. “You got it.” Blowing out a breath, she pushes to her feet and links her hand in mine. Just that small connection makes me feel calm. With a gentle tug, she pulls me toward her, saying, “Follow me, everyone.”
One by one, we file down the hall and into Cat’s bedroom. It’s a scene eerily similar to a night not that long ago. The night I found out the truth about Alessandra…and about Lorenzo.
Fighting to keep my eyes straight ahead, away from the painting on her wall, I head for her bed. Cat has no idea the portrait bothers me. If she did, she’d take it down. But who wants to be the jealous dude who can’t get over his girl’s ex? Not me. I’m not that guy—not normally. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends before, and none of their pasts ever bothered me.
This is just the first ex-boyfriend I’ve been related to. Or who could be my twin.
And the girl is Cat.
Falling onto the mattress, Cat bounces slightly and then yanks me down beside her. I twist to put my back against the headboard and tug her flush against me. Having her in my arms helps. Cat takes a deep breath and sinks into my chest, waving her hand at the big, open bed.
“Sit. Stay. Join us. There is news to be shared.”
“That sounds ominous.” Austin plops on the other end and glances around, and I have a feeling he’s remembering that other night, too.
Alessandra moves to sit next to him, but before she can, Cat lifts her palm. “Actually, Less, do you mind grabbing my binder first?”
Less’s eyebrows shoot up at the emphasized word. By now, we all know what that means. The hidden binder filled with proof of time travel impossibilities. Wordlessly, Alessandra turns to Cat’s desk and rifles under the false bottom in the third drawer. When she emerges a moment later with a bright purple binder, my breath freezes in my lungs. So much for not being the jealous douche.
“Why do we need this?” Alessandra asks, tapping the plastic-coated cover. I can imagine the fight she’s having with herself, wanting to flip the pages, see her parents and hometown again, and being scared of the result. She’s acclimating to our world amazingly well, and to look at her, you’d never think she has a down moment. But I know this isn’t easy. Cat’s told me that she struggles with homesickness. She probably always will.
“Trust me, girl, I wouldn’t be pulling this out on you unless I thought it was important.” Cat carefully takes the binder from her hand, clasping her fingers for a long moment before letting them go. “But there’s something that Lucas and Austin need to see to understand.”
I watch, confused, as she turns page after page, quickly scanning each picture. Austin’s holding Alessandra in his arms, and even from across the bed, I can see her hands trembling. Glancing at the book, images bleed and meld as they fly past, almost unrecognizable—except for the one of Lorenzo. When I catch that one, I immediately wish I could see Cat’s face, see if she reacted at all. Her body language didn’t change. Her fingers didn’t twitch. Her torso didn’t flinch. But I can’t help but wonder. I hate the insecure guy I become thinking of him.
Luckily, that’s forgotten a couple pages later when Cat stops on a picture of Ransom. Only, it’s not Ransom. It’s a guy who looks exactly like him, except dressed in a weird jacket and tights. Unfortunately, the picture she has of Lorenzo is only a face shot. Seeing him dressed like this would help the ego a lot.
“Is that Cipriano?” I ask, remembering the name she said at the airport.
Cat nods, and Alessandra makes a sound like a choked sob. I take it she and this guy were close. This is going to be tricky.
“Less, you know I’d never hurt you on purpose, but I thought the guys should see this before my new brother comes over. I also wanted to prepare you…”
The slight confusion that washes over their faces says they knew about Rance; they just have no clue what he looks like. They must’ve been in class, where we should’ve been, and away from social media when Caterina introduced him to the world.
“Sweetie, Ransom is the twenty-first-century Cip.”
As Alessandra gingerly accepts the binder from Cat, I take out my phone. With a quick tap of my fingers, I pull up thousands of photos from today’s airport soiree. Sure enough, the one of me spitting fire after the crude remark about Cat is popular. I find one of Ransom without sunglasses and catch Austin’s attention, waving my phone in the air before handing it to him.
Austin’s eyes grow wide as he looks at the phone, then at the binder, then at the phone again. “Baby.” He nudges her gently, and Alessandra lifts her head up from the picture. He hands over the phone and wraps her tighter in his arms as she gasps.
“That was my reaction,” Cat says, slumping against me. “If you think about it, though, it makes sense. My mom is your mom’s doppelganger. It’s not that crazy that their sons would be each other’s.” Ah, so Cipriano must be Alessandra’s brother. Shit, that sucks. “I wonder if Rance’s dad looks like Uncle Marco,” she muses.
No one answers. The four of us just sit there, Alessandra mourning the loss of her family, Austin consoling her, and me just enjoying the feel of having Cat in my arms away from the madness. When a knock sounds on the door several minutes later, she bolts up, Less scrambles, and I slam the binder shut just as Jenna walks in.
“Your father and I would rather this door stay open,” she says, carrying a tray of brownies in her hand. Jenna sets the tray on the middle of the bed, between all of us, and glances curiously at the closed binder. “What’s that?”
Cat being Cat of course couldn’t leave it unmarked. Pencil sketches of Italy, period costumes, and Michelangelo’s David cover the entire thing.
The four of us stare at one another, mouths gaping, as Jenna leans forward. “Is this a scrapbook from our trip?” she asks, picking it up.
We all find our voices at the same time. “No!”
Jerking upright, Jenna yelps as the binder drops from her fingertips like a dead weight. Her hand flies to her chest, no doubt in shock from what appears to be an extreme overreaction—extreme and suspicious. Sure enough, her lips press together, and her eyes narrow on each of us.
The chances of her putting it all together if she takes a peek at the book is highly unlikely. She’ll be confused, but probably nothing we couldn’t explain away…at least until she stumbled across a picture of Alessandra’s mom, Lorenzo, or Cipriano. But with everything else going to crap, I’d rather not tempt fate.
“Sorry, Ms. J,” I say, smiling to flash the dimples that work wonders on girls my own age. I’m not flirting with Cat’s future stepmom. That would be weird. And gross. But I’m not above using every weapon in my arsenal to keep this ship from going up in flames. “It’s just a project we’re working on for Mr. Scott. A surprise for the midterm art expo.”
At least that’s not too much of a stretch. Cat and I are working on a project for the expo. It just has jack to do with anything in that binder.
“Hmm.” Jenna fists her hand on her hip, looking like she doesn’t want to believe me. But after a moment, she relents. “All right. But this door is staying open, okay?”
We all mumble various forms of “no problem” as she backs away, and then listen in silence until the click of her shoes disappears.
Cat falls back against me. “Holy close calls, Batman.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, and then press a kiss against her hair.
Austin snaps his fingers. “Well, before you three bad influences corrupt me any further, I gotta go.” He stands, and Alessandra follows him, latching on to his arm. “I have to bring Jamie to her dance class tonight.”
She nods, and they do this unspoken communication thing where they stare at each other and smile. It’s sweet, but nauseating. Mainly because Cat and I were headed to that place before the world came crashing on our heads.
“Later, man.” I raise my fist, and Austin bumps it.
Cat snatches his hand before it drops.
“The wedding’s postponed,” she says, “but I still nee
d you here for lunch tomorrow. Caterina and Rance are coming for a family meal, this time on my turf, and like you said, you’re a part of us now.” Flicking her gaze to Alessandra, she adds, “Plus, I think my girl here may need the backup.”
“I’ll be there,” he promises, tucking Less under his arm.
As I watch them walk out the door, in that solid zone that I want for Cat and me, I remember another thing about tomorrow. Something I almost forgot in the drama of today, and something much better than a meal with her deranged mother. With that in mind, it looks like I better head out, too.
Sliding her hair to one side, I say, “I should go.” I lower my lips to her exposed shoulder and breathe in the sweet scent of her skin.
Cat leans into my touch, tugging on my arms until they’re wrapped around her tiny waist. She folds her arms around them, hugging me close, and lets her head fall back against my chest. Inhaling deeply, she says, “No, you shouldn’t.”
I chuckle as she relaxes her hold, only to drag her fingernails across the skin of my forearms. The feel of her touch sends fire coursing through my body.
“You should stay here with me,” she continues, drawing lazy patterns over my flesh. Tension coils at the base of my spine. The contrast of her light, sun-kissed skin against my darker tones, the gentle rake of her fingernails, makes my stomach knot. I have to taste her.
Placing my hand under Cat’s chin, I tilt her head back and brush my lips over hers. But a brush isn’t enough. This girl turns me inside out, and I should’ve known I’d need more. I’ll always need more. It’s not just a physical thing. The scent of her hair, the feel of her lips, the truth that she’s mine…it rushes to my head. I don’t care that the door is open. I forget that I need to leave. My hands are in her hair, her hands are clutching my thighs, and the whimper in her throat belongs to me.
When her full lips part and the tiniest flick of her tongue touches mine, any shred of control I had snaps.
Grabbing her hips, I spin her around until she’s facing me, only breaking the kiss to position her how I want. Before I take her mouth again, Cat’s heated gaze meets mine, and she smiles. Another piece of my heart is hers.
A sound down the hall minutes later breaks through my mental fog. I don’t want to stop. My hands are on Cat’s face and up the back of her shirt, and she’s just so damn soft. But we need to. I have plans to make, and if her dad finds us like this, tomorrow is not going to go the way I want.
Groaning, I drop my head to her shoulder. “I really do have to go,” I say again.
Knowing it and doing it are two different things, though. I can’t stop touching her. Sliding my hand across the smooth skin of her back, I make a mental list of things to do before tomorrow night, trying to get my blood back up to my head. When I remember my first stop—the living room to talk with Cat’s dad—I find that dose of cold water I need.
“But hey,” I say, sliding my nose over her rose-scented skin, “do me a favor, okay? No stressing tonight. If you get upset or worried, call me. We can talk all night, or I’ll come back over. But try to get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
I press my lips to her throat because I can’t help it. Cat wiggles in my lap, so I force myself to stop. She grumbles. “I know,” she says with a sigh. “Lunch with the family.”
Grinning, I lift my head. “Nope. Not just lunch. Now that the wedding is postponed, I get you for the rest of the night. And I’ve got plans. Big plans.”
“Plans?” Cat’s slightly swollen lips pucker, and all I can think about is tasting them again. But then they lift into a gorgeous smile and form the words, “Valentine’s Day.”
“Valentine’s Day,” I confirm, unable to stop myself from leaning in and stealing one more kiss. Her hands fist my shirt, and I smile against her lips. “And, Miss Crawford, you best prepare yourself, because you’re gonna swoon your ass off.”
Game Face
∙Cat∙
Lunch with the Crawford/Angeli family is about as weird and awkward as you would imagine. Which is to say, very. From the moment my mom and brother walked in, Alessandra’s been glued to Ransom’s side, interchangeably gawking and staring off into the distance. Eventually, I hope having him here will be like a gift from fate (or more accurately, Reyna). A way of bringing Less a taste of home, something familiar. Right now, though, it’s just a big ball of weird.
As for Rance, he’s too busy texting to notice my cousin’s stares, and Austin keeps cracking inappropriate jokes. Lucas is silently watching everyone, and Jenna is uncomfortable, and no doubt a little insecure, so she’s all over the place, strung higher than normal, and chattering faster than Michael Phelps cuts through water. As for Dad and Caterina, they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table for a reason. Other than a private conversation right after they arrived, my guess about my brother, they’ve barely looked at each other. It’s safe to say the olive branch he extended via wedding invitation has been snapped in half.
Me? I’ve got my game face back on.
After Lucas left yesterday, it took a while for me to come down from my kissy stupor. But when I did, I crashed and burned. The culmination of discovering my mother had a secret love child, seeing her be as self-absorbed as I always feared, and the surprising hints of a real woman with depth sent me on an energy spiral. Less and I made an unspoken pact not to discuss any of it, instead choosing to spend the evening vegged out in front of the television. I’ve totally got her hooked on Family Feud.
But after a restless night of sleep, my eyes popped open this morning, and I could’ve sworn I heard Reyna’s voice floating in my room. At the very least, I remembered the lesson she sent me to the past to learn.
I’m a type A girl. I prefer things color-coded, organized, and within my control. Unfortunately, sometimes life sucks, and it rarely goes according to plan. My trip to the sixteenth century taught me that while I can’t control other people, or the actions that happen around me, I can control how I react. I might not have Caterina figured out yet, but that doesn’t matter. This isn’t her ship to command. It’s mine.
And I’m on a mission for normalcy.
“The meal was lovely, Jenna,” my mother says, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a beige linen napkin. “Thank you. I hope we weren’t any trouble, inviting ourselves over like this on such short notice. I’d hate to think we interrupted any of your plans.”
The overly bright smile my future stepmother has worn all morning fractures. Caterina has the good sense to wince. As Lucas squeezes my hand under the table, I catch Dad’s Papa Bear frown fall into place.
The elephant in the room is about to throw up.
“Just our wedding,” Jenna declares in a tight, controlled voice, her blond hair bouncing with the sharp shake of her head. Austin chokes, then coughs to cover it up as she places her hands on the table and pushes to her feet. “Excuse me, Peter, I have to go check on…” Mouth open, her gaze falls to our half-empty plates and the carved pie resting in the center of the table. Dad squeezes her hand. Unable to come up with a reason to bolt, other than she wants to, Jenna shrugs and simply says, “Excuse me.”
Caterina looks shell-shocked. Ransom actually puts down his phone. He glances at me, and even from across the table, I can see the humor shining in his eyes. It’s safe to say the strained-yet-civil tone of the last half hour has been obliterated. But I can’t help but be proud of Jenna. That was a huge step for the bubbly woman, and I’d bet my brand spanking new paintbrushes she’s in the kitchen right now doing a fist pump.
Dad tosses his balled-up napkin onto his plate. “I’ll be back.”
Mom gnaws on her full bottom lip as he clears the room. “Guess I put my foot in it, huh?”
More like buried her foot, but there’s no point in correcting her. Especially not when she actually looks apologetic. I’m not an idiot. I know my mother’s an actress, so faking emotions is kind of her gig…but honestly, this looks legit.
Unfortunately, I also can’t argue wit
h the facts, so I ignore what I hope is a rhetorical question and say, “How long are the two of you staying in town?”
Caterina’s attention flicks to Ransom, who shifts in his seat. This is the first time since I’ve met the dude that he’s appeared almost flustered. Uncomfortable. An impressive feat considering the crap we’ve been dealing with. Our mother’s teeth sink farther into her lip before she releases it. “Well, actually, I plan to stay for the next two weeks. I have a few meetings lined up, things to do, and I hoped to spend some time getting to know you. The both of you. In fact, I’d like the pair of you to join me at an event on Thursday.”
She gives me what appears to be a genuine, hopeful smile, one that makes her eyes light up, and the shift sends me reeling. She keeps flipping the switch. Narcissistic one minute, humble the next. She reveals family secrets on national television and drops bombs in front of the stalkerazzi, then comes here for a private lunch and seems almost…normal. Not my kind of normal. Even at her most laidback, there’s no mistaking Caterina’s a starlet. But she’s nearly relatable.
These hidden layers are seriously messing with my head.
Dad returns a few moments later and takes his seat, announcing to the silent room, “Jenna will be out in just a minute. She’s on the phone with a client.” That’s a rather convenient story if I’ve ever heard one, but I’ll go with it. Dad pops his neck, a clear sign he’s feeling the tension of the room, then leans back and glances first at my mother and then at me. His eyes narrow. “What did I miss?”
“I’ve invited Caterina to join me at an event Thursday,” my mother replies, again with my full given name, invoking an inward groan.
I detest my name. Partially because it’s her name and partially because it just sounds pretentious. Ill-fitting. I’m not exotic or glamorous or cool enough to pull off Caterina. I’m Cat, pure and simple. But I bite my tongue. We already have enough drama to deal with today.
My Not So Super Sweet Life Page 7
