Page 23 of A Follow-Through in Faking
But how could I not?
Cata enchants me.
“We’re so close,” Catalina mumbles as we sit down, wiggling in her seat a little. Excitement wafts off her, and I can’t help butsmile as she moves to the edge of her seat, staring straight ahead at the stage.
Along with having a general admission area, Isabella Ada’s concert venue also has seating near the stage. They’re separated, making sure we won’t be crowded in later while also getting to be in the front row. If this option hadn’t existed when I was getting the tickets, I’d have had to seat us somewhere in the back, away from everyone else.
“Your claustrophobia really came through with these seats,” Cata says, surprising a laugh out of me.
“What?” I ask, my hands starting to sweat.
“Your claustrophobia. It’s why we’re so far in front and away from the people, isn’t it?” she asks, finally turning to me again. Her eyes drop to my mouth before she catches herself, and I temporarily forget about what we were talking about.
“I never told you about that,” I point out, catching the way she leans forward a little and takes a deep breath.
Is she… smelling me?
Fuck, my heart stumbles at the very possibility.
“You didn’t have to, Santi. We’ve known each other for over a decade,” she replies, turning her head to face the stage again.
We don’t speak for a while after that. I simply place an arm around the back of her seat in casual affection, mulling over her words.
I wonder what else she knows about me that she’s found out by watching me.
“You ask for a picture,” I hear someone whisper from a little way behind us.
Cata’s shoulders shake as she covers her mouth, and I realize she heard the same thing I did. I play with one of the strands of her hair, but she doesn’t seem to notice because she’s too busy snickering into her hand. It’s such a wonderful sight, I can’t do anything but stay as still as possible so I don’t interrupt her.
Only once she lowers her hand and rolls her lips to hide her amusement do I say, “I think we’ve found ourselves some fans,mariquita.” Catalina’s hair flies a little as she moves her whole body to face me once more. “Should we kiss? Demonstrate that we’re together?” I ask even though I was the one who said no kissing.
It was me.
She asked me if we should, but I said no. Maybe if I remind myself of that, I’ll stop asking her to put her mouth on me.
“Be my guest, but I should warn you, my lip gloss may or may not have poison in it.” She’s so full of shit, but I love the way she smirks, challenging me.
I dip my head without thinking. My lips are so close to hers, my nose brushing over hers in a playful sort of way that has her breathing hitching. The thought of her not moving away because she has to be here, because this is the image we have to uphold, has me placing a kiss on her cheek instead of her lips. She doesn’t trust me yet, and Cata needs trust to be touched intimately, even if it’s something as simple as a kiss.
Then again, I doubt kissing Catalina is anything but simple.
“Catalina Sanchez? We’re so sorry to bother you, but would you mind taking a picture with us? We’re huge fans,” the person, whose voice I heard only minutes ago, asks, their breathing fast and uneven. They’re obviously nervous, but my fake girlfriend has this energy about her that puts people at ease.
“Of course. Santiago will take it,” she assures both fans before standing up to get in the middle of them, smirking in a way that lets me know she’s enjoying the fact that they recognized her but not me.
“Well, I think they probably took enough video evidence for us to be covered by every news outlet in the world,” Cata says after the fans leave and she sits back down beside me. “Then we can finally make it social media official, too, and Charlie and Carloswill be happy.” I place my arm around the back of her chair again, continuing to play with her hair.
“Yeah,” I reply, not sure what else to say.
My eyes stay on the side of her face, realizing for the millionth time since meeting her all those years ago that Catalina is physically flawless.
At least to me.
The slope of her nose, the fullness of her lips, her slightly bigger-than-average forehead… she’s flawless. I know she would never agree. She was bullied for most of her school life because of her broad shoulders and strong body, but I find it just as stunning as the rest of her. My ladybug has the kind of body that will win her the big trophies.
“Santi?” she says, not looking at me.
“Yes, Cata?”
