Page 23 of A Follow-Through in Faking

Catalina

“You kissed Santiago.”

It’s the fifth time Charlie has said this to me today, but I’m not even annoyed because it’s clear they’re trying to process that fact as much as I am.

It still doesn’t feel real to me.

“I kissed Santiago,” I echo, staring at my hands.

“Why?” Ness chimes in, and I look up, into her dark brown eyes, trying to look for an explanation.

“I don’t know. He asked if I would, and I didn’t think I would, but when he started walking away, I realized I did want to kiss him. Joder . Why did I want to kiss him?” My rant comes to an end, and I cover my mouth, trying to keep any more words from slipping free.

“Maybe because you’ve always had feelings for him and he’s slowly pulling you in again?” Sage chimes in, and I throw her a dirty look.

“I would much rather shave off my eyebrows and never wear clothes again than have feelings for Santiago Javier Castillo.” I visibly shudder, making the three people around me grin.

“Feelings are as uncontrollable as the weather, sweetheart. Sometimes, you’ve got a beautiful outfit on and you're in a fantastic mood, but then rain pours down and ruins everything. Feelings are like that. You can be in a fantastic mood, feeling like the ruler of the world, and then they can ruin everything.”

“What a pep talk, Ness. Fuck, you should become a therapist,” I say sarcastically, but she frowns at me, clearly not having finished speaking.

“But they can also be warm and comfortable, a source of vitamins you need for a good quality of life. So even if they’re unpredictable, sometimes they’re vital for our happiness,” she goes on, and Charlie flings an arm around her shoulders, hugging her from the side.

“Ah my sweet, naive friend. Feelings are shit. They are the beginning of all drama and the end of many relationships. They are the incentives of impulsive behaviors, and the reason people cry themselves to sleep. If Cata doesn’t want to address her feelings, then leave her be. She has enough on her plate as is.”

Charlie’s words have me throwing a kiss their way, and they wink at me before squeezing Ness again and stepping away to help me with my stretches.

It’s been a week since Santi won the Australian Open, since I kissed him for the first time, and I have been avoiding him for the entire seven days. He hasn’t pressured me into meeting for our weekly dinner, but he’s been sending me texts, asking me how I’m doing mentally since losing.

He seems very concerned about my mental well-being, and I know it comes from his own experience with anxiety and depression, so I always text him back.

I return the question. And then we move on until he checks in again the next day.

He doesn’t push, but part of me wishes he did so I could be angry with him.

This way, he’s only making me want to kiss him again.

“We have another two weeks until you are partaking in the Dubai Tennis Championships. Eventually, you’re going to have to take two days rest. You know my rules.

Training is important, but your body can only handle so much,” Charlie says, lifting my leg and stretching it out in a way that has my back crying in complaint.

“Fuck, whatever you just did, please don’t do it again,” I say, fighting back the tears that shot into my eyes in response to the pain.

“Your back?” Charlie asks, and I let out a strained breath.

“Yeah,” I reply, noticing Ness and Sage walking toward where I am on the floor with worry on their faces.

“Okay, that is it. You are taking a three-day break from training. Go lie by the pool and do absolutely nothing today before our flight tomorrow,” Charlie announces. “Preferably go into the sauna too, get some heat on your body. Sweat everything out,” they go on, helping me finish up my stretches.

“I can’t. There is too much to do. I have to go to Argentina for Santi’s next tournament, train for my next tournament , figure out a way to be around Santi, and, and, and,” I say, hopefully making my point that there is no time to rest.

“I don’t care if the whole world explodes if you lie down. You need rest, or your back is only going to get worse,” Charlie says, earning several nods from Sage and Vanessa.

“Fine, I’ll take the rest of the day and tomorrow off. It’s a long flight to Argentina anyway.” Twenty hours, give or take.

Usually, if I’m sitting for that long, I make it my mission to do some sort of workout before, to tire myself out, but Charlie is right. I need to rest if I want to win my next tournament. Plus, I want my back to get better.

“Good girl. Now go,” Charlie says, and I hate them for smirking at me when a blush takes over my entire face.

I throw my sweaty towel at their face and leave the room.

Santiago

I’ve been giving Catalina space, but when Charlie texted me, telling me to figure my shit out with her before the next tournament—to make sure there will be no tension between us after that amazing kiss that went on the front pages of every news outlet—I ran at the chance to see my mariquita .

It was out of respect for her that I’ve stayed away, that I didn’t ask her to tell me why she kissed me after all.

Why she chose one of the best moments in my life and made it even better.

I want to ask her if she might have feelings for me too, or if it’s all one-sided.

But the last question is never going to come out of my mouth, at least not if I can help it.

Then again, I also told myself I’d never have feelings for another person, and here I fucking am, speedwalking to get to Cata.

Charlie told me she’d be at the pool area, but Cata still takes my breath away.

She’s spread out on a lounge chair by the pool, nothing but a bikini and hat covering her.

It’s an indoor pool area you need access to with a keycard—Charlie gave me theirs—so I understand why she’s not on guard right now, why she looks so relaxed and peaceful.

No one who isn’t also a guest here could walk in, but there is no one here.

She’s all by herself in that tiny bikini, and I feel heat consuming my whole body.

I didn’t know she had a tattoo, let alone several.

I’m too far away to study any of them, but I like the fact that she has them.

It’s something we can potentially bond over, our love for the ink on our skin.

There are several on my chest and back, a few hidden near my ankle where I can always cover them with socks.

My favorites are the two vines running along where my V-line is, Tornado’s face tattooed near my ribcage, and the tennis racket incorporated into a heartbeat line to show I live and breathe for the sport I love.

My feet move long before I manage to catch my jaw off the floor, but I don’t care.

I’m too busy studying her curves, the thickness of her thighs, the swoop of her breasts, the width of her shoulders, the sharpness of her facial features.

I study all of her. Her pale skin tone, her long hair, and the way she scowls at whatever book she’s reading on her ereader at the moment.

“Catalina,” I say, her name full of the tension I feel all over my body because of her. Because I have never, ever seen her in a bikini before, so much of her exposed to me, and it’s fucking with my head.

All of that fades away, though, as she panics and reaches for her towel, covering her chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” She cuts me off before I can finish my apology.

“It’s fine.” Cata puts her ereader away, grabbing her shirt and slipping it over her head to hide from me. “What are you doing here?” she asks, studying me, her eyes getting stuck on my naked chest.

“I thought we could talk,” I start, settling down in the lounge chair beside hers.

“About?”

“Don’t play dumb, Cata. You’re far too smart for me to believe that shit,” I reply, blushing a little when she studies the lines of my tattoos on my upper body. “I want to talk about that kiss.” Cata snorts before looking me dead in the eye.

“It was the heat of the moment. It meant nothing,” she says, her voice firm.

“To you,” I clarify, making her look at me with confusion.

“What?” Her blue eyes are full of all the feelings that terrify her. The same ones that terrify me, but in very different ways. She’s scared I’ll hurt her again. I’m scared because she’s the only one I’ve ever felt this way about.

“It meant nothing to you. You don’t get to decide what it meant to me.” Her features soften, but she shakes her head like this is a conversation we shouldn’t even have in the first place.

“It can’t have meant anything, Santi. It can’t happen again.” My next words practically fly out of my mouth.

“But I want it to. I want to kiss you. As a matter of fact, I want to do all sorts of things with you.”

Cata’s breath hitches as I lean forward, lifting my index finger to wrap around the chain of her necklace. I don’t tug on it because I know how valuable it is to her, but the mere proximity of my finger to her skin is enough to make goosebumps spread over her arms.

“Aren’t you curious, carino ? Don’t you want to know what it would feel like to have me on my knees for you, doing everything you demand of me?” She shivers, and I let my gaze drop to her mouth as she pulls half her bottom lip between her teeth.

I want to bite her lip.

I want her to bite mine.

“Santi, if we cross that line, there will be no going back. We have months of faking left ahead of us. Adding sex to the mix will make things incredibly messy,” she says, but the distance between us is still closing, and I haven’t moved a centimeter.

“But what if we start and never want to stop? We could just keep going until—” I cut off, not entirely certain where the fuck I’m going with this.

Cata leans back, breaking the contact between us as she lets out a dry laugh.