Page 102 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“As long as you never call it romantic again.”

“I didn’t say that in the first place.”

Cross side-eyed her. “You were going to.”

“Now you’ll never know, you arrogant prick. You shouldn’t have interrupted me.”

His laughter shook the bed, and Catherine smiled. She went back to reading her book, and he let her, for the moment.

“You know,” he said after a while, “I kind of love you, Catherine.”

She stilled beside him. “Kind of?”

“I do.”

“I know.” Her smile was back, but it was softer. “What’s that feel like?”

“Like nothing else,” he admitted. “Tight in my chest and warm in my blood. Like it’s better when you’re around, but perfect when you’re close enough to touch. Terrifying because I’m way too open, and that’s crazy.”

“Love me, huh?”

“I think I always have, Catherine.”

It sure felt that way.

“I probably always will,” he added.

She snuck closer to him on the bed; her soft lips kissed his arm, and her green eyes watched him from under dark lashes. “Promise?”

“Always.”

“I love you, too.”

Fast as a blink, Cross rolled over and took Catherine with him. Her book fell from her hands, but she didn’t seem to mind anymore. She was kissing him then, all lips and teeth and tongue waring with his, while her hands skipping between their bodies.

His hands were already there, too.

Slipping into her panties.

Stroking and circling and pressing and getting her to make noise again.

Beautiful noise.

God, he loved her noise.

Calisto was waiting for Cross at the front door when he walked inside the Donati home on Sunday afternoon. He wasn’t surprised, nor did his step-father’s solemn expression concern him all that much.

“You worried your mother to death,” Calisto said.

“I texted her and you. Twice. I said I was fine.”

“You’re seventeen. You don’t get to just take off for two days, Cross.”

“I was fine,” he repeated, kicking off his shoes and removing his coat. “What, do you want to try and ground me, tell me I can’t pick up soccer in the spring, or keep my spot on the football team, too, when the season rolls back around? Take the Rover keys, I can’t drive it until I finish my hours anyway. Tell me to stay in the house, or in my room, what difference is it going to make?”

“That’s the whole problem,” Calisto said in a sigh, “it won’t make a difference.”

“So we’ve got that figured out then.”