Page 26 of A Follow-Through in Faking
Now I know.
My fake girlfriend’s hate for me is justified while mine for her is completely and utterly not.
I hate myself a little bit right now.
“We lost the match, we lost our standing, and we lost our reputation for being the best there is. I looked like an ass, waiting there for you for forty-seven minutes until they called it.” She lifts her gaze, revealing that she’s shut down her emotions. “You can’t fix that, Santi. You can’t magically take away the resentment I’ve built toward you,” she explains, shaking her head as she lets out a sad laugh.
My hand reaches out to grab her chin between my fingers, keeping her attention on me as I say, “Don’t underestimate my determination, Cata. I’ll earn your forgiveness, and I’ll prove to you that my career isn’t more important than our goals.”
Cata gives me an unimpressed look I wish I could wipe off her face.
“Sure, Santi, and tomorrow, pigs will fly,” she says, leaning away to break skin contact and get out of the car.
Determination fills me as I follow her.
If there is a way to make Catalina forgive me, I’ll find it.
I’ll earn it.
Because, if I’m being honest with myself, all this time, I’ve been looking for a reason to stop pretending. I tell myself I don’t like spending time with her, but a mere moment in her presence has me smiling almost excessively. And I’m not irritated with her. I’m always irritated because I don’t know how to talk to her without making her angry.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make her hate me less. I’ll beg. I’ll get on my knees, whatever she needs, because Catalina deserves it.
After what I’ve done, she deserves the world laid at her feet.
Now I only have to figure out what that means for her.
Chapter 12
Catalina
Thepartyisasfull of people as I was expecting. Santi stayed glued to my side for most of the first hour, watching me drink and chat with some people while he sipped on his water and kept his hand casually placed on my hip.
It didn’t even irritate me as much as I wish it had, which is why I used the first chance of him getting distracted by an acquaintance to leave and move around the room on my own.
And that’s when I spotted one of my favorite people in the world and the host of this party.
Matteo Ricci.
We met several years ago on the tennis court when we were paired up to play doubles for a charity event and have spent countless evenings together since. I’m not as close to him as I am to Sage, Ness, and Charlie, but spending time with him brightens up my days. He’s fun, easy-going, and always finds ways to make me laugh.
After my conversation with Santi in the car, I really don’t feel like doing anything other than glaring at every single person around me, but Matteo doesn’t give me that choice.
“Catalina Sanchez, you are far more beautiful than anyone has a right to be,” he says as he approaches me, placing two kisses on my cheeks. “Will you dance with me,dolcezza?” he asks, and I find myself blushing at the muscular Italian with deep brown eyes, dark brown skin, and short, curly hair. The three glasses of champagne I’ve downed also have made me tipsy and my chest all warm.
“Absolutely,” I reply, placing my hand in his when he holds it out for me.
I’m well aware I should be spending all my time with Santiago, selling this fake relationship of ours, but we were already photographed together outside of the venue. I think I get one minute to enjoy with someone I actually like, especially because Matteo vetted every single person here, making them sign something that said no video and photography is allowed.
Whatever happens at his parties will not be shared on the internet.
“Uh oh, Lina. Your boyfriend isn’t happy that I’m touching you,” Matteo says right after he grabs my hips to spin me around, his body behind mine as we keep dancing. He tilts my chin in Santi’s direction so that I look at him, and when his usually happy mouth is downturned into the most irritated scowl, I bite my lip to keep him from seeing my smile.
“First of all, he isn’t my actual boyfriend. Secondly, good. Let him be pissed.” I spin back around in Matteo’s arms, swaying my hips to the music.
Matteo is a very attractive man, and when he touches my lower back, I get butterflies in my stomach. He seems to notice because he’s smiling down at me knowingly, bringing his hand even lower. I trust Matteo, I always have, so I don’t stop him whenhe looks at me for permission. If anything, I sway my hips more, inviting his hand to brush against me.
Right before he slips it onto my ass, I feel someone grab Matteo’s wrist, and then I’m pulled against a very hard chest that’s vibrating with anger.
