Page 64 of A Follow-Through in Faking
Minutes later, Matteo is dancing buck ass naked on the coffee table to ‘Low’ by Florida, but I don’t get to see a thing because Santi covers my eyes, which is fine with me. With my eyes covered, I can simply think about Santi dancing naked on the table again, and I prefer that.
Chapter 27
Santiago
CatalinaandIweretraining our asses off to prepare for today, and I feel surprisingly ready to play doubles with her. My anxiety levels are lower than they’ve ever been before a match, and I know it’s because she’s with me. We’re in this together, and if we lose, which we won’t, we’ll do that together. Knowing I’m not alone, that I’m with the woman I have feelings for, puts me at ease.
Papá and Charlie helped us warm up already, so now we’re making our way to the court where we’ll be playing today. Catalina has been characteristically quiet, but I can’t stop talking to her.
“I’m so excited to play doubles with you. We’re going to win this tournament. Oh, also, you should refrain from doing any overhead smashes and instead leave the ball to me as long as your back isn’t at a hundred percent. I wanted to tell you thatearlier, but I forgot. And—” I cut off when I see the amusement sparkling in her eyes.
“Santi, take a deep breath. I know you’re excited, but I’m going to need you to slow down before you make my heart race any more than it already does thanks to the sight of your arms,” she says, placing a hand on my arm and squeezing it. Appreciating it. “This outfit was a horrible choice if I’m supposed to not drool for the whole match.”
Excitement unfurls inside of me.
“Cata, are you flirting with me again?” I ask, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“I can’t seem to stop,” she replies, shaking her head as I grin down at her.
“Well, the same goes for your outfit. I won’t be able to focus when you’re in front of me,” I admit and watch a smug look take over her features.
Catalina truly looks devastating in her outfit.Spinhas outdone themselves once more, having put her in a dark blue skirt with a matching top, but the top is tight around her chest, and the bottom flows beautifully around her trained, thick thighs. My girl is a masterpiece, made to perfection and then some, and her biggest sponsor has a way of always highlighting that very idea.
For the next tournament, I’ll have to speak toNew Lightand see if they’d askSpinto collab on outfits for Cata and me because not matching with her, wearing a different shade of blue, is annoying me.
“Well, you’re going to have to focus because if we lose this, I’ll post an embarrassing picture I took of you during one of our flights. Mouth open, eye mask on, drool coming from the corner of your mouth,” she says, and I let out an exasperated gasp.
“First of all, I don’t drool. Second of all, if you do that, I’ll start wearing shirts with sleeves,” I reply, making her chuckle.
“Fine, fine. Let’s not resort to such drastic measures.”
My laughter dies out when we’re called to the court, the entire arena welcoming us with loud cheers and applause. I wave at all of them with a smile, and Cata does the same, but hers looks a little more forced than mine feels. I know she has a tough time with this amount of attention, so I take her hand, squeezing it comfortingly as we make our way to the seating area where we’re supposed to put our bags. Towels are waiting for us there, but Cata and I always bring our own, given to us by our sponsors.
Catalina places her hand on my bicep for several seconds after she releases my hand, showing her gratitude without speaking a single word.
The mixed doubles players Cata and I are opposing today are Frederic Boutine and Inaya Klatz. They’ve been playing doubles for a year, so they’re a bit more practiced than Cata and me, but we’re the better players, at least individually. Who am I kidding? We were undefeatable when we played together as kids, and we’ve only gotten better in our game since. We practiced, and it’s like we fell back into a comfortable rhythm.
We’ve got this.
We do all of the pre-match activities, flipping the coin, warming up, and so on, before the match finally starts. I’m serving first, which means Cata will be at the net for this first game. She’s fantastic at volleys, so I’m confident this will be easy to get through.
“Okay, so Inaya plays with a lot of topspin, but Frederic hits the balls flatter.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too,” I reply, walking to the back with her to put our towels down. “His backhand is very inconsistent,” I add.
“Her backhand is really strong. We should stay away from giving her that shot,” Catalina replies, following me to the baseline.
“Got it. I’ll serve to her forehand.”
Cata lingers next to me for a tense second, not entirely sure if she should simply walk to her spot or do something else. So, while Inaya and Frederic still make their way to their spots, I place a hand on her left hip, lean down, and press a soft kiss to her cheek. The crowd cheers, and I immediately grin because they’re supporting us and our relationship exactly how we’d hoped they would. Our plan is working. No one has mentioned my playboy ways in months, and Catalina’s scandal is long forgotten, replaced by conversations of how dedicated we are to each other.
“We’ve got this,” I say, squeezing her hip once more before releasing her.
The way she smiles makes me so happy.
A smile born out of a sweet gesture of mine.
I love her smile so much. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it, and not only because it’s rare and I don’t get to see it often. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough because Catalina’s smile reminds me of all the good things in the world. It reminds me of my childhood, a time when she gave it to me so freely. It reminds me of what I hope my future will look like, a life filled with her smiles.
