Page 45 of A Follow-Through in Faking
“Yes,cariño?”
“I kind of want to do something else I’ll regret tomorrow.” I swallow hard, attempting to speak, but I can’t find words when she drops her hand from my brow to my bicep and squeezes it gently.
Her thumb stays on my bottom lip.
“And what is that?” I don’t sound like myself, but that might be because of the hope and excitement in my chest taking over as she moves even closer to me.
“I want to put my lips here,” she says, her thumb pressing down on my bottom lip before she drops it.
I lean toward her without hesitation, desperate for exactly what she’s describing.
But then the door flies open as Charlie walks back into the hotel suite, sending me flying backwards.
Catalina slowly leans away, dragging her knees to her chest and closing herself off from me once more.
Fuck.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Santi.”
It’s a clear dismissal, and I hate the way I want to run, too. I have to get out of here. I have to go find Matteo and talk to him because only my best friend is going to be able to talk to me about what the fuck is happening.
I kiss the top of Catalina’s head, squeeze Charlie’s arm as I walk past them, and then sprint all the way to Matteo’s room door as panic consumes me.
My fist connects with his door aggressively, over and over, until he opens it, revealing he’s in nothing but boxers and his hair is all over the place.
I’ve never been more glad that he’s staying at the same hotel as Cata, even when he looks ready to kill me.
“Santiago, what the fuck do you want? I was trying to sleep,” he says, but I storm past him and into his room, unable to breathe properly.
This is usually how I feel before my anxiety attacks, but for some reason, it also feels entirely different. It’s more panic than anxiety, which is bad enough in its own way.
“Okay, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” Matteo asks as I sink down on his couch, wrapping the blanket he put there around myself. I cover my head and body until all he can see is my face.
“I’m in so much trouble,” I state, holding the blanket around me more firmly.
“Why? Did you rob a bank?” I shake my head. “Did your nudes get leaked?” Again, I shake my head. “Then what can be so bad?”
“I think you were right. I think I… I have feelings for my fake girlfriend.”
Rocking back and forth on my best friend’s hotel room couch, I keep the blanket clutched in my hands and wrapped around myself. I’ve been in this exact same position for a while now, butMatteo left five minutes ago, after unsuccessfully trying to snap me out of my panicked state.
I’ve never had falling-in-love type offeelingsfor someone before. I’ve been amazing at avoiding them, mostly because a relationship has never been appealing to me. The overthinking, being absolutely naked emotionally, the commitment, it all terrified me.
And most of all, I have always been too scared of dragging someone down into the depths of my depression and anxiety to truly let them in.
And I was so fucking unsuccessful. I didn’t want anything more than a night with a person for so long, but I should have known the reason for that wasn’t because I was trying to spare myself and the other person.
The reason was and has always been Catalina.
“How long has he been like this?” I hear my sister ask as she walks through the door.
“Twenty minutes, more or less,” Matteo replies, and if I could, I’d refocus my gaze enough to look at both of them. Then again, if I could, I’d tell them I’m fine. Even if it would be a bold lie they’d be able to see through.
“Santi, talk to me. Is this an anxiety attack?” Manu asks, but I shake my head.
We saw each other mere hours ago, talking about how she was feeling about the breakup, but when I left she looked worse than she does right now. I think worrying about me is allowing her to forget about her own pain, which is at least something.
“No? Then what’s wrong? Why have you cocooned yourself?” she asks, waving her hands around to gesture at my current appearance.
